


Have a Good Weekend

by hopingforaword



Series: A More Progressive World, Of Course [3]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bobby Maler he's the worst, Cunnilingus, Cute gays, F/F, First Time, Hanschen And Thea Are Siblings, Insecurity, M/M, Marijuana, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Sex, Smoking, Swearing, abuse mention, body image issues, discussion of sex, self harm mention, sexual abuse mention, woo boy I'm going to hell my children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:56:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopingforaword/pseuds/hopingforaword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Hanschen and Ernst’s first big date this weekend, and Hanschen has legendary plans. A museum party, a fancy dinner, a night in a hotel room… Ernst isn’t sure he’s ready for all this attention, especially since he can’t afford to reciprocate. Meanwhile, Wendla and Ilse were looking forward to a great concert, but a huge snowstorm stops their plans. Melchior and Moritz wanted to do something, but they just end up back in Melchior’s bedroom. Thea, grounded after an outburst at dinner, sneaks out to Martha’s house. There’s a lot up in the air, but one thing’s for certain: this weekend is going to be one for the history books.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friday

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a sequel to All the Answers, but it could stand on its own. There are little references you might not get if you haven't read AtA but nothing too important. They’re all teenagers so they swear and talk about sex. Rating only comes from Hernst stuff at the end so if you skip that it's probably teen rated.  
> Thanks to my best friend Emma for proofreading this and shouting at me for leaving cliffhangers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to skip the sex part, stop reading at, "You look so good in that suit."

It was only their second day dating, but Ernst had been waiting years for this. So when Hänschen pushed him against his locker and kissed him like the world was about to end in front of the entire sophomore hallway, Ernst didn't mind. He didn't even mind that they were two minutes late to homeroom, or that Ilse wolf whistled when they walk in holding hands. He was happier than he'd ever been in his life.

“So what are the two new lovebirds doing this weekend?” Wendla asked as Ernst slipped into the seat between her and Hänschen. “Getting to know each other?”

Melchior leaned forward from his seat behind Wendla and said, “Yeah, in a biblical sense probably.” Wendla swatted him playfully and he laughed, leaning back to talk to Moritz.

“Well?” Wendla’s attention was back on Ernst. When he still didn’t respond she said, “What are you guys doing this weekend?”

Ernst shrugged and looked at Hänschen, who was talking to his sister. “Hansi,” Ernst called quietly and Hänschen turned around almost immediately. “What are we doing this weekend?”

“I have tickets to an exhibit opening in the city tonight and we have a reservation at a restaurant. Tomorrow we’re going ice skating and there’s a bookshop downtown I want to check out.” Hänschen smiled and Ernst smiled back. Wendla looked between the two of them.

“Get a room,” she whispered, smiling and turning to talk to Ilse.

Hänschen leaned closer to Ernst so that they could whisper without being overheard. “Actually, we’ll be staying in a hotel room tonight.” Ernst’s eyes were wide, so Hänschen barreled forward. “Not anything like–I’m not expecting–we don’t have to if you don’t want to just like… it was easier to stay in the city overnight.”

Ernst wanted to laugh at how normally smooth Hänschen was reduced to babbling by him, but his heart was racing, something he thought was absurd. This was no different than all the secret sleepovers they’d had at Hänschen’s when his parents had gone out of town. It was the same thing just in a hotel. He had nothing to worry about. 

He smiled at Hänschen, who turned around to finish his conversation with his sister. Ernst sat there, staring at his feet. He knew he was happy. But he was also terrified for the coming weekend.

 

Wendla and Ilse have been planning this trip for months, so now that it’s here the two of them can hardly contain their excitement. During first period math, Wendla sits behind Ilse and stares at her blue and black hair, thinking of how she'll look dancing around in the bright lights of the concert. Rachel Kann, Anais Mitchell, and Doomtree, all performing in one amazing night. Ilse had her driver’s license and was borrowing her mom’s car, and the only thing Wendla was worried about was the very real possibility that they'd get distracted and lost on the freeway. 

“Don't worry,” Ilse whispered, seeming, as always, to be able to read Wendla’s mind, “We’re going to have a great time this weekend.”

Wendla grinned and Ilse stole a glance behind her, grinning the same way, before turning back around to refocus on the math on the board. Wendla and Ilse had been together the longest of any of the friends, having started dating around the middle of freshman year. Their one year anniversary was in two weeks and the girls were as inseparable as ever. They were in love, and they both knew it, even if they hadn't gone as far as Melchior and Moritz. That wasn't what mattered. It was the love that mattered. Still, Ilse knew there was no better time than this weekend to talk about  _ it _ . She loved Wendla, but they'd also been dating for a year and she wanted more. 

“Wendla,” Ilse whispered, not turning around. 

“Yeah?” 

“Before we leave tonight, can we talk?”

“Sure. What about?”

Ilse wanted to just raise her eyebrows until Wendla realized what she meant, but turning around again would be dangerous and she really didn't need detention today, so instead she whispered, as quietly as possible, “Sex.”

The soft, “Oh,” from behind reassured Ilse that Wendla had heard her, but made her worry about the outcomes of the upcoming conversation. She slumped a little in her chair as their math teacher reviewed the properties of radii again. 

 

Moritz knows Melchior loves him. He  _ knows _ even if Melchior still hasn't  _ said  _ it. Moritz sees it in the way Melchior speaks when he helps him with homework, the look in his eyes when they're talking, the way he smiles across rooms as he gives answers to complicated questions, the way he watches Moritz when he thinks he isn't paying attention, the speed of his pulse when they're making out, his shudders under Moritz’s hands, the sounds he makes when him and Moritz lock themselves in his bedroom, the way he looks at Moritz when they're lying in bed together, naked and tangled and panting. He  _ knows _ , but it'd still be nice if Melchior could  _ say _ it. 

Moritz has wondered frequently if Melchior hasn’t said it because he doesn’t feel it. Maybe Moritz is just projecting all his feelings onto Melchior’s actions. Maybe Melchior doesn’t really like him at all, and he’s just sticking around until he can find someone else to fuck. Moritz shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts.  _ Melchior  _ asked  _ him _ out, and they were being secretive because of  _ Moritz _ . Although that really wasn’t Moritz’s fault. Mr. and Mrs. Stiefel were very homophobic and he couldn’t afford to come out, for his own safety and well-being. And if Melchior wanted to find someone else to fuck, he could’ve done it by now. So it was clear that Melchior  _ did  _ feel it. So why didn’t he say it?

Melchior smiled across the horseshoe of their classroom and Moritz grimaced back. History always made him anxious, so he hoped that Melchior assumed the grimace was because of that, and not because of him. It wasn’t totally because of him, but Moritz knew Melchior could be incredibly paranoid. Moritz turned back towards the board, desperately trying to pay attention to whatever they were learning about World War I instead of drifting off into his head.

Melchior turned back to his notebook. He’d never admit it, but those little moments when Moritz didn’t smile back, or when he pulled his hand away, or when he whispered, “Not now,” into Melchior’s ear in deserted staircases, all these little things that felt like rejection, terrified him. Melchior thought he'd managed to figure out almost everything in his life:  school, his parents, his friends, religion, his future… everything except Moritz. Moritz liked him, right? Moritz had proved time and time again that he likes the physical side, but he was always fidgety and nervous around Melchior. With all the messed up things in Melchior’s head, he wasn't sure anyone besides Moritz would want to be his best friend, let alone date him. In moments like those, he got the heart stopping fear that maybe Moritz didn't want to deal with him or do anything with him anymore. He knew Moritz would say it’s the ADHD or the anxiety, but he always worried that maybe it was just him.

“You’re worrying too much.” Melchior thought it was just his conscience or guardian angel or whatever it was that consoled you and kept you from letting your mental issues kill you until the voice said, “He clearly loves you as much as you love him.” He turned around and saw Thea Rilow’s chin resting on her palm, elbow on her desk, gaze in the same direction as Melchior’s. Unlike her brother, Thea’s eyes were a kind hazel, and the tips of her blonde hair were dyed red. Just like her brother, she was smart (she was supposed to be a freshman but skipped kindergarten), tall, thin, calculating, hauntingly beautiful, and entirely too perceptive for her own good (and often, other people’s).

“I don’t–I’m not–I wasn’t worrying about Moritz,” the usually composed Melchior spluttered.

“Really? Because you smiled at him and he didn’t smile back and then you got that worried Melchior look on your face.” Thea smirked and raised her eyebrows and Melchior tried very hard not to think about the crush he’d had on Thea in third grade, or the thing he’d had with Hänschen the previous year.

“Shut up Thea,” he said, attempting to refocus on his history notes.

 

The lunch bell rang and Thea made her way into the lunch line. Martha came up behind her, tapping her gently on the shoulder. Thea turned around and her permanent case of resting bitch face melted into a smile that lit up her whole face. She held Martha’s gaze and resisted the urge that came over every cell in her body to pull the other girl into a tight hug. If Thea had been someone else, or perhaps if she’d been a little less self aware, she would’ve hugged Martha. Thea knew girls could hug and no one would say or assume anything (an assumption in itself), but she was Thea Rilow. She was just as well known as her brother for being cold, if not even more so. At least Hänschen got around sexually. Thea was just cold. Nobody went home with Thea, not unless everyone was hanging out at the Rilow house (rare, but it happened). So Thea held herself back.

“So how was your morning?” Thea asked coolly, turning around to pick up a tray and sliding a salad onto it.

“Alright,” Martha said, slipping a candy bar onto Thea’s tray, “Sucks that we don’t have any classes together.”

“It does.” She put the candy bar back on the counter. At the look on Martha’s face she said, “I have to watch my figure.”

Martha drew closer to Thea and whispered in her ear, “Your figure is absolutely perfect.”

“And why would I settle for anything less?”

“At least split a cookie with me.” Martha made a puppy dog face and the little resolve Thea had left melted. 

“Fine.” She took the cookie and walked over to the register to pay for her lunch before Martha could talk her into anything else. “You know,” she said, “You should really become a bank robber. You’d be able to sweet talk anyone into anything.”

“Not anyone,” Martha said, putting her wallet away. “Just you.” She smirked and passed Thea on her way to their usual table.

Only Hänschen and Ernst were already at their table, and were taking advantage of their relative privacy to make out. Martha cleared her throat as she sat down. When nothing happened Thea called, “Hey asshole!”

Hänschen drew back and turned to his sister while Ernst turned the same color as the tomato soup he was staring intently into. “What Thea?”

“If you don’t let go of Ernst for at least five minutes he’s going to suffocate or starve. It’s been  _ two days _ . Let him breathe.” Hänschen smirked and Ernst slowly ate his soup. Martha tried not to laugh.

Wendla and Ilse sat down. “Ernst, you trying to see your future in that soup?” Ilse laughed.

“Thea just finished telling Hänschen off for trying to suck the life out of Ernst via mouth,” Martha informed the two newcomers.

“So naturally Hänschen looks smug and Ernst is embarrassed,” Wendla said.

“Classic,” Ilse laughed.

“What’s classic?” Melchior asked as he walked over to their table, arm around Moritz’s shoulders. 

“Hänschen trying to kiss Ernst’s soul out.” 

“Of course,” said Georg, arriving with Anna and Otto, “It’s been two days and Hänschen’s already trying to turn Ernst into his little sex toy.”

“Hey, I have a great idea, how about we talk about your sex life Georg?” When Georg was silent and his face crawled into a snarl, Hänschen laughed openly, and so Melchior, Thea, and Ilse. The other six held back snickers, including Ernst. “Also,” he wrapped his arm around Ernst’s shoulders, “If we could avoid objectifying my boyfriend, that would be great.” Ernst blushed into Hänschen’s shoulder.

“Booo!” Ilse, Anna, Otto, and Georg took some fries off their plates and threw them at Hänschen. “That’s just too much,” Ilse added, picking fries off Wendla’s plate to feed herself. Wendla playfully batted her hand away, and Thea realized she was watching them too intently. She didn’t like them, but she didn’t need Ilse or Wendla or Martha to get the wrong idea, so she looked at her brother. 

“Why do you have that stupid look on your face?” Thea spat at him, more looking for something to do than because she actually had anything to say.

Hänschen was about to say something good, something like, “Fortunately for me it’s a stupid look and not how I look all the time,” when he saw Melchior and Moritz’s posture stiffen. “What?” 

“Here comes trouble,” Melchior muttered, watching someone walk towards them. Everyone else at the table could nonchalantly look, but it would look too suspicious if Hänschen and Ernst turned completely around too, so who was coming was an entirely unwelcome surprise to them.

“Well isn’t this cute.” Hänschen’s face went white as he recognized the voice behind him and Ernst’s hands clenched into fists. “The wild one has finally been domesticated, and by innocent little Robel.”

“Keep walking Bobby,” Melchior spat at him.

“Always so quick to defend him, aren’t you Gabor? Maybe Stiefel better watch out.” Melchior started to rise from his seat, but Martha and Moritz yanked him back down. “Anyway I just wanted to give my good wishes to the happy couple and remind Ernst that if he ever needs advice on how to make Rilow scream, I have a very vivid, recent memory.” Hänschen’s eye started twitching and Ernst’s knuckles went bone-white. Bobby smirked and walked away.

“I hate him so much,” Hänschen growled through his teeth. His hand slipped down to Ernst’s waist and he pulled him closer. “I mean it’s been two days and he’s already trying to drive me and Ernst apart.” There was a pause and he whispered, “I’m sorry Ernst.” Ernst rubbed Hänschen’s thigh gently and reassuringly.

“To be fair, you slept with Bobby three days ago,” Otto said, “But yeah, he’s an asshole.”

“The worst,” Ilse, Wendla, and Melchior said. They looked at each other and laughed.

“I guess we know who else hooked up with him.” Thea smirked and raised an eyebrow while Ilse, Wendla, and Melchior suddenly were too enrapt in their lunches to respond. Martha’s hand found Thea’s under the table and squeezed it. Thea smiled, a look she hoped would be passed off as part of her vindictive sense of humor.

 

Thirty minutes, too many sex jokes, and one incident of juice shooting out of Georg’s nose later the bell rang for sixth period class. Everyone except Thea and Martha groaned, because this was the one free period they shared all week. As everyone else stood up and shuffled off to class, Martha whispered in Thea’s ear, “You know my mom’s away this weekend.”

“Really?” Thea said, squeezing Martha’s hand under the table before she stood up to clear her tray.

“Really. I was thinking you could come over and we could talk…”

“I’m grounded.”

“Oh?” Martha dumped the garbage on her tray into the trash and put her tray on top of the stack. “What for?”

“Not sure but I think I called my dad an asshole in a fight yesterday. So, grounded.”

“Not always the wisest move.” Martha playfully bumped her shoulders against Thea’s. “So I guess we can’t have that talk. It’s a shame really,” Martha started ambling down the hallways and so did her words, “I didn’t just have talking in mind, but now we can’t.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I was averse to sneaking out!”

“What if I’m averse to you sneaking out?”

“You have to stop trying to save me from myself Martha. Haven’t we Rilows already proved we’re beyond saving?”

“Nobody’s beyond saving and you and your brother need it more than most.” Thea rolled her eyes. “C’mon, he’s got Ernst, you need somebody.”

“I have you.”

“And no one knows.”

“I have to obey my father sometimes Martha. But if you let me keep it a secret, sneaking out will be less common because he’ll let me go out without asking questions.” Martha rolled her eyes. “Just this once, let me sneak out.”

Martha looked at her and nodded. “If you get caught, it’s your fault Rilow.”

“I’ll never get caught. Besides, you mentioned something about a talk and something else, and I think it’d be worth it even if I did get caught.”

“Oh yeah, the talk will definitely be worth the shit you’ll take from your dad.”

“Funny,” Thea said, turning a corner into a deserted hallway. “I meant the something else.”

“Well I could tell you about it,” Martha said, drifting towards the wall and grabbing Thea’s hands to pull her towards her. “Or I could give you a sneak preview.”

Thea nodded enthusiastically. “I would definitely appreciate that.”

“Anyone ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Only my brother, every day of my life.”

“That wasn’t an invitation to keep talking darling.”

“Fine,” Thea said, moving forward as she put her hands on Martha’s jawline and she pressed her lips onto Martha’s. Martha relaxed into Thea’s touch and moved her hands to Thea’s hair, running her fingers down the entire short length of it. Thea opened her mouth at the feel of Martha’s fingertips on her scalp and pushed her tongue onto Martha’s lips, slowly prying her mouth open until their tongues brushed. Martha groaned and Thea dragged her hands off of Martha’s face and down the front of her body, slipping her hands to the sides as she reached Martha’s waistband. Her hands rested on Martha’s hips as Martha pulled her in tighter, barely any space remaining between the two girls. Thea’s fingers teased the bottom of Martha’s shirt, fingers beginning to brush the skin of Martha’s stomach. One of Martha’s hands closed around Thea’s wrist.

“Not here,” she whispered into Thea’s ear. 

Thea nodded. “We have to save something for tonight, don’t we?”

Martha groaned. “The whole point of this was for you to not come over.”

“Bad argument,” Thea said as the bell rang for the end of the period.

 

Something that sucked in Melchior’s life: Having seventh period free and eighth period class.

Something that rocked in Melchior’s life: Moritz also having seventh period free.

Another thing that rocked in Melchior’s life: the couches in the part of the library no one ever came into.

Melchior was sitting on one of the couches, legs stretched across the cushions, Moritz sitting on his lap, facing away from the couch. Melchior was reading some article or other about spies during World War II and was just starting a section on Josephine Baker when he remembered Moritz’s grimace during history that morning. “Were you okay during history this morning?”

“Yeah,” Moritz said calmly, “Just worried about midterms.”

“You’ll be fine.” Melchior kissed Moritz’s hand, but Moritz laughed.

“I hope so. What are we doing this weekend?”

“Well,” Melchior said, “A little bit of this I hope,” and he leaned upwards and pressed a kiss onto Moritz’s lips. When Moritz kissed him back, Melchior dug his fingers into his boyfriend’s hair, but just as he went to push his tongue into Moritz’s mouth, Moritz pulled back.

“Melchior!” he whispered, trying to flatten his hair, “We’re in the school library!”

“So?” Melchior leaned forward again, hands pressing into Moritz’s sides with a heat that usually would have melted Moritz into a puddle. Moritz moved away from his touch.

“It’s a public space.”

“There’s no one here Moritz.” Melchior wasn’t  _ trying _ to be an asshole, he was just trying to point out the facts. But when Melchior and Hänschen pointed out facts, it very frequently seemed like they were just being assholes.

“Not now Melchior,” Moritz said firmly, moving to sit on the upper edge of the couch and Melchior deflated. Again and again and again he tried to show that he loved Moritz, and again and again and again Moritz shut down. If Moritz didn’t want to touch Melchior and kiss Melchior and fuck Melchior, Melchior wasn’t sure what else Moritz would want from him.

“Are we still going to the museum tomorrow morning?” Melchior asked, trying to fill the semi-awkward moment.

Moritz brightened a little and said, “Of course! Can we study for midterms tonight?”

Melchior smiled. “Sure. You can pick my brain.”

“Everyone knows a man’s sexiest asset is his brain.” Moritz kissed him on the head as the bell rang for eighth. “Go to class. I’ll see you in the hallway.”

Melchior walked off to class, scratching his head and wondering precisely how his boyfriend’s mind worked.

 

Ernst hated waiting for Hänschen even more now. If he didn't have band, they could go home and lock the door to Ernst’s bedroom… But it didn't matter, because Hänschen had band. Fortunately, on Fridays Melchior had eighth period too, so Moritz was in the hallway with Ernst. They were sitting there, talking about not much and nothing very important anyway when Bobby Maler walked through the hallway. 

“Oh look,” he said dryly, “Robel’s already been ditched by Rilow. And by the looks of it, he did it for Gabor. Are you two bonding over the fact that your boyfriends ditched you for each other?”

Ernst was normally very level headed, but a flash of hot anger shot through his body with Bobby’s words. He  _ knows _ Bobby is just trying to get a rise out of him, but the worries he doesn't want to voice seem to come out of Bobby’s mouth every time he arrives. “Piss off Bobby.”

If Moritz hadn't been there to witness it, he never would've believed Ernst had actually said it. Even being there, he wasn't sure Ernst had actually told Bobby to piss off until he saw the look on Bobby’s face as he skunk away. “Don't worry,” Moritz said, rubbing Ernst’s hand, “Melchior’s Hänschen phase is so far over.”

“Still,” Ernst said, “What if one day we wake up and Hänschen doesn't want me anymore?”

“Then Wendla will literally set him on fire.” Moritz laughed at the look on Ernst’s face. “We've been placing bets on when you two would get together for years now. It was only a matter of time.”

Whatever Ernst was going to say next was cut off by the bell. Moritz drifted off to wait by Melchior's locker while Ernst stood up. He saw Hänschen coming down the hallway and wondered if he should kiss him hello. He and Hänschen had only been dating two days, but Hänschen was constantly covering Ernst with his hands and his mouth. But what if it was too public, too much?

Before Ernst could decide, Hänschen pulled him into a kiss. Ernst didn't care that there were people watching or that someone was whistling, and he loved that Hänschen didn't seem to care either. It wasn't until Ilse said, “Ernst!” at the same time as Thea called, “Hey genius!” that the two broke apart, Ernst turning red and looking at the ground and Hänschen smiling proudly. 

“As much as I'm sure we’d all love to watch you two lick each other’s tonsils, I'm sure we’d rather you come with us to Pinkberry.”

“It's your girlfriend behind the counter, not mine Ilse,” Hänschen said, putting his arm around Ernst, “And I have better plans for my mouth than frozen yogurt.”

Ernst blushed even redder but whispered, “We have all weekend for that. Let me buy you some yogurt.”

Hänschen looked into his boyfriend’s pleading eyes and smiled. “How can I refuse an offer like that?” Ernst smiled and the group followed Ilse out of the building and towards the Pinkberry, Hänschen and Ernst bringing up the rear. 

“You know,” Ernst said, “for a minute I thought you actually weren't going to come with us. I mean, you don't particularly like outings with our friends or frozen yogurt.”

Hänschen blinked. “I like hanging out with our friends!” His hand brushed Ernst’s thigh. “I just like hanging out with you a little more.”

Ernst's fading blush returned as a rosy pink. “That aside, I didn't think you'd be willing to eat something as caloric as froyo.”

“It's my sister who counts every calorie that goes into her mouth, not me. You should know better. Eating is my fourth favorite thing to do with my mouth.”

Completely unaware of the subtext, Ernst asked, “What are the other three?”

Hänschen smirked. “One is talking, one involves at least one other mouth, and the last one I'd rather show you than tell you about. But that should wait until we’re in private.” More color rushed into Ernst’s face. 

“Oh.” Ernst's heart was racing and he didn’t look at Hänschen because he was afraid he'd jump his boyfriend right on the avenue. He followed his friends into the Pinkberry, his thoughts still on Hänschen spread out on his bed. 

 

Ilse walked up to the counter and called, “What do I have to do to get some service around here?”

Wendla turned around and smiled. “That only works if I don’t recognize your voice.” She leaned forward and gave Ilse a short kiss. 

“Hey,” Ilse said, “About the talk I wanted to have…”

“Yeah?”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Wendla looked and little worried and scratched her neck. She shook her head and half-smiled. “No, no, we should. Talking is important. And…” She trailed off, looking at her feet.

“And what?” Ilse asked softly so none of their nosy friends could hear. 

Wendla looked up at her girlfriend with a sly smile. “And I’ve been thinking about it too. A lot”

Ilse’s eyes widened and she smiled, but she didn’t say what she was thinking. Instead she said, “So you’ll meet me at my house after work and we’ll get in the car?”

“Yeah,” said Wendla, “But if you or one of the others don't order something else, I’m going to have to kick you out.”

“Can I have my usual?” 

Wendla shook her head and walked over to the yogurt machine, picking up a medium cup and pouring cake batter frozen yogurt into it. “If you keep visiting me every Friday you’re going to spend more money on froyo than anything else in your life.”

“Is that a problem? I’m supporting my girlfriend.”

Wendla sprinkled chocolate chips and gummy bears over the yogurt. “You don’t need to support me. And it’ll be a problem when your favorite jeans don’t fit anymore.”

“Will you love me even when I’m fat from too much froyo?”

Wendla kissed Ilse and out the yogurt on the counter. “I’ll love you through practically anything.”

“Practically?” Ilse asked, pulling out her wallet and handing Wendla the exact change.

“Well if you murdered me I think I’d stop loving you.”

“But if I became a bank robber…?”

“I’d be the Bonnie to your Clyde.”

Ilse whined in protest, picking up her yogurt. “I’m always the guy.”

“Not true. I’m definitely Romeo.”

“Great, so I’m a little princess who’s so afraid of her parents that I pretend to die and later kill myself when you die.”

“But remember, Romeo was in love with someone else in the beginning.”

“That’s right! I forgot about your middle school fling with Melchior.

“Better than you at homecoming with your mouth all over Bobby Maler.”

“Hey! You hooked up with him two days earlier!”

Melchior cleared his throat behind Ilse. “If you two are done with your cute banter, I’m supposed to split some froyo with my boyfriend.” 

“Melchior must feel left out! He hooked up with Bobby too!” Ilse laughed.

Melchior grimaced. “Louder, please, I think some people in the next county didn’t hear you. Now if I may?” 

Ilse kissed Wendla on the cheek and drifted off to grab a table for her and her friends.

 

Everyone settled around the table, Ilse staring longingly behind the counter. 

“Ilse!” Ernst called. “She’s at work sweetheart.”

Ilse sighed and turned around. “I know. It’s just…”

“Don’t worry, Wendla will not find some other amazing, beautiful, talented girl she loves while she’s working the counter at the local Pinkberry,” Ernst reassured her.

Ilse smiled at Ernst. “Thanks buddy. I needed that. Although I’m not sure your boyfriend appreciates that.” She gestured at Hänschen, who was scowling at the air between Ilse and Ernst. 

“If you two want to start making out sometime, just warn me,” Hänschen said sarcastically.

Ernst rolled his eyes and Ilse laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous Hänsi,” Ernst said, “I don’t even like girls. Here, have some froyo.” Before Hänschen could respond, Ernst shoved a spoonful of frozen yogurt into Hänschen’s mouth. “So Ilse and Wendla and me and Hänschen are leaving tonight. What are the rest of you doing?”

“Studying,” Melchior and Moritz said.

“Right…” Anna said, looking at the two of them. “‘Studying.’ That’s what the kids are calling it these days.” Melchior scowled at her while everyone else laughed.

“Funny, but we actually are studying,” Moritz said, and everyone nodded. Midterms were coming up and tests made Moritz very anxious. It was possible that he and Melchior were actually studying. It just wasn’t very likely

“Thea and I are hanging out,” Martha added. Thea bumped her leg under the table, but it was too late for Martha to realize her mistake. 

“Thea’s grounded,” Hänschen said, refocusing on the conversation.

“And?” the look Thea threw her brother was so full of challenge and determination that several of the people around the table would’ve melted under it, but Hänschen had over fourteen years of experience with that look.

Unfazed, Hänschen shrugged. “It’s your funeral,” he said, before scooping more frozen yogurt into his mouth.

“What about you guys?” Anna looked at Otto and Georg, who shrugged. 

“Video games probably.” The two boys blushed at the simultaneous response, and Hänschen laughed.

“Seriously, when are you two going to get together?” They both turned redder and stuttered a little.

“I don’t even like guys,” Otto finally managed to say. “I’m straight Hänschen. No matter what your crazy theories say, not  _ everyone _ is bisexual.”

“You’ve never seen a man and thought, ‘Oh damn that guy is really hot. So hot that, if I was a girl, I’d have sex with him’? Or maybe even gotten a little, just a little, turned on by some shirtless guy?” Otto’s eyes widened a little and he turned red, but before he could protest, Hänschen said, “And I know you’ll say this isn’t fair, because I’m not posing the same kind of question to any gay men or straight women or gay women, so I will. Starting with gay men.” He turned to Ernst and said, “Ernst, the same question but women.”

More coolly than anyone could have predicted, Ernst said, “Otto and I, and everyone else for that matter, have the right to not incriminate ourselves.”

“What makes you think I’d like Otto anyway?” Georg asked.

“What’s wrong with Otto?” Otto asked, and everyone laughed. Ernst checked his watch.

“What time’s our train?” he asked Hänschen.

“5:30.”

“We should go pack. It’s already four.”

“Train?” Ilse asked. 

“Yes, because unlike you, dear Ilse, neither Ernst nor myself is sixteen, so we cannot drive. So we’re taking the train into the city tonight.” With that very unceremonious goodbye, Hänschen stood up and walked over to the garbage can, then looked expectantly at Ernst.

“Bye guys!” Ernst said, standing up and clearing his bowl into the trash. While all their friends were still clearly watching, Hänschen pulled Ernst into a kiss. “See you guys Monday!” he called as his boyfriend dragged him out of the Pinkberry. The rest of their friends watched through the window as Hänschen pulled Ernst into another kiss on the sidewalk. The two seemed to fit perfectly into each other until Ernst leaned back and dragged his boyfriend off towards their houses.

“It’s a shame,” Georg said, turning back to his frozen yogurt. “I really liked hanging out with Hänschen.”

“Why the past tense?” Anna asked.

“Well when he leaves Ernst for whichever ridiculous freshman catches his eye next month we won’t be able to hang out with him anymore,” Georg said and Otto nodded in agreement.

“You guys are so negative!” Martha said. “Maybe Ernst will break up with Hänschen.”

“I give it a week until Hänschen dumps him and we have to go console Ernst,” Georg said.

“You’re all being assholes,” said Ilse, “Can’t you just be happy that they’re happy?”

“You know as well as the rest of us that where Hänschen is involved happiness doesn’t last too long. He blows through people like Melchior blows through pens or like you blow through sketchbooks. We’re just being realistic.”

“How about,” Thea started and everyone turned to her, almost having forgotten she was at the table, “we stop speculating on a relationship we know nothing about and let them be happy while they are?”

Georg laughed. “Are Rilows programmed for happiness?”

Thea stood up. “As much as I’d love to stay here and hear you guys talk shit about me and my brother, I have to leave. See you Monday. Have a good weekend.” No one believed that she actually meant it as she walked out of the Pinkberry.

“Me too. Bye guys.” No one questioned as Martha hurried out of the Pinkberry and followed Thea, even though her house was in the opposite direction.

“You got a death wish or something?” Melchior asked Georg as he hit the back of his head.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“Could ask you the same you idiot,” said Ilse.

“You really want to be on the Rilows’ bad sides?” asked Moritz.

“I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?” Georg asked.

“Whatever,” said Melchior, “You wanna go Moritz?” Moritz nodded and they left the Pinkberry, calling, “Have a good weekend!” over their shoulders.

“My mom’s here. You guys want a lift?” Otto asked Anna and Georg.

Anna nodded and Georg yelled, “Shotgun!” Anna and Otto exchanged a secret smirk, although not secret enough that Ilse didn’t notice it. The door jangled closed and Ilse was, for the second time in two weeks, alone in the Pinkberry. She leaned back in her chair and stretched her back and arms. When she noticed some senior guys checking her out, she shook her head and stood up. Ilse waited patiently while Wendla served someone before kissing her girlfriend.

“See you at your house at six?” Ilse asked.

“Yup. And then it’s just you, me, and your mom’s car for a whole weekend.”

Ilse smiled before turning away from the counter, slipping in her earbuds as she walked towards her house.

 

Martha grabbed Thea’s elbow right before she rounded the corner onto her block. Thea cursed herself as she relaxed into Martha’s touch. She was Thea fucking Rilow. As her friends had so kindly pointed out, time and time again, Rilows didn’t have emotions.

“Are you alright?” Martha almost whispered.

Thea scoffed. “My friends just spent five minutes ridiculing my brother, I‘m grounded, everyone at school thinks I’m a cold, uptight bitch, and I’m not allowed to be gay, so yeah, I’m fine.” Everyone was always surprised at how, even when they were down and almost out, the Rilows could both spit venom like snakes. Thea tried to walk away, but Martha grabbed her other arm.

“It was a stupid question alright? I just want to help you.”

Thea swallowed hard. “You should go.”

Martha stepped back, eyes filled with shock. “What?”

“We all know I’m just as cold-hearted as my brother, more probably, because at least he fucks random guys at sketchy parties. I’m just going to break your heart, so you might as well move on now. Don’t let me stop you from your real happy ending just because I won’t get one.” Thea Rilow didn’t cry. Not the time Hänschen threw her off the top bunk and she broke her ankle, not the time her father screamed at her for kissing Anna as a joke when they were all still too young to know what any of it meant, not the time everyone else had dates to the middle school dance––Wendla and Melchior, Ilse and Otto, Hänschen and Martha, Anna and Georg, even Ernst had managed to convince Moritz, who hated school events, to go with him––not even the time Anna had turned her down because she was straight. Standing on the sidewalk, staring at the girl she loved more than anyone else and confronting her horrible,  _ real _ destiny, Thea Rilow thought maybe all the times she hadn’t cried were catching up to her. She turned away from Martha. “Just cut your losses now and go.”

Thea expected to hear softly retreating footsteps, or maybe even a soft, “Fuck you,” like the one Thea had heard Martha throw at Moritz after he kissed her and then told her he liked Melchior. She braced herself for the sounds of running away and crying. What Thea was totally unprepared for was a soft hand on her shoulder and the way she leaned backwards into Martha’s hand.  _ Damn it _ .

“Everyone deserves a happy ending Thea.”

“Even me?” she sniffled slightly, back still to Martha.

“Especially you,” Martha said, “You’re an absolute sweetheart, despite what you might try to tell other people. You’ve had a lot of sadness in your life, and a lot more struggle than people probably give you credit for.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re stuck with me,” Thea said, still refusing to turn around.

“I’m not stuck with you. I love you.” Thea turned around, towering over the other girl but still looking broken. “And I know we’re just a high school romance, so I don’t expect some big happy ending, but we shouldn’t break up just because we will some day. I’m happiest when I’m with you, and that’s not going to change any time soon. So please, let me stay.”

Thea took Martha’s hand. “I will Martha, if you will stay through my ridiculousness.”

Martha kissed her on the cheek. “I will.”

Thea laughed. “That sounds ominously like a vow.”

“I have to get home,” Martha said, “But when will I see you?”

“Depends on when I can sneak out. Your mom’s away all weekend?”

“Yup. So you can just ring the bell and I’ll be home.”

“See you later.” Thea squeezed Martha’s hand and then turned and started walking briskly down the block. Martha blinked and her girlfriend was gone.

 

Hänschen didn’t want to stop kissing Ernst, but he also wanted his father to let him go on the trip this weekend. So, reluctantly, Hänschen drew back from his boyfriend. “Go pack,” he said, “I’ll be over in ten minutes and then we can get to the train.”

Ernst nodded and smiled before skipping up to his house. Hänschen turned and walked into his house, silently passing up to his room. A few minutes later he heard the front door open and then slam shut, and the hurried footsteps up the stairs told him his sister was home. Before he could register what had happened, Thea was collapsed on his bed. “Who invited you in here?”

“Shut up,” Thea whispered angrily, but Hänschen could see the tear tracks on her cheeks. He sat down next to her head.

“What’s wrong?”

She turned to him, eyes big and watery. “Do you ever feel like maybe we’re not programmed for happiness?”

Hänschen let out a long sigh. “So after we left, everyone was talking about me and Ernst and whether or not I’m going to break Ernst’s heart, huh? Well little sister,” Hänschen pushed the hair out of Thea’s eyes, “I think everyone deserves a happy ending.”

Thea smiled, eyes still full of tears. “That’s what Martha said.”

“Oh,” Hänschen said, a grin spreading as his voice took on a mocking tone, “How is Martha?”

“Don’t be an ass,” Thea said, smacking him playfully.

“You’re not as secretive as you think sis. At least, not to me.”

Thea sighed heavily. “Can you believe Mom and Dad cancelled their plans this weekend just to make sure I didn’t leave the house?”

“Is that what he told you?” Hänschen laughed. “Dad has to go to a business conference in town this weekend. It was scheduled at the last minute.” He laughed again bitterly. “I can’t believe he tried to use this to control you. Dad’ll barely even be here Thea.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t get caught sneaking out this weekend. You’re not allowed to be in trouble when I’m not here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Thea laughed as Hänschen stood up to use the bathroom.

Ernst was shoving clothes into his bag as fast as he could. Slacks, a blazer, button downs, ties, pajamas, boxers, socks. His mother knocked on his door softly.

“What?” Ernst said and then to himself, “What did I do with my phone?”

“Do you need anything sweetie? Soap, a toothbrush, condoms?”

Ernst stopped in his tracks and turned to face his mother, absolutely bewildered. “Mom!”

Mrs. Robel put her hands in the air. “I’m just asking! What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t help you be safe?”

“Mom! I’m not going to have sex this weekend!” Ernst zipped his bag and continued the frantic search for his phone.

“You say that now, but you and I both know what Hänschen’s like, and we both know how much you like Hänschen, and I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

Ernst found his phone under his bed and texted Hänschen that he was ready to go.

“Honestly, Mom, I can handle myself. Not that I’ll need to this weekend.” Ernst walked to the stairs before saying over his shoulder, “Besides, if you’re right he’ll be prepared.” Before anyone could process what Ernst had said, he was rushing out of the house.

Hänschen was leaning on a cab when Ernst got outside. “Is this for us?” Ernst asked.

“Perks of Daddy paying to get rid of you for a weekend: transportation costs are entirely covered. Shall we?”Hänschen responded, opening the door of the cab. Ernst scrambled inside and Hänschen followed him, shutting the door before the cab sped towards the train station.

“So why is your dad paying for all this?” Ernst asked, looking out the window. He hated to admit it, and he hated talking about it, but Ernst knew that most of his friends were better off than he was and everyone knew that the Rilows had a lot of money (why they stayed in this small town was a total mystery to everyone). Ernst felt bad that this first date of legendary proportions was being paid for entirely by his boyfriend. 

“Didn’t I tell you?” Hänschen asked. “My mom originally planned this trip for me and Thea, just as a way to get away from Dad for a weekend. Then we started dating, and I tried my best to get Thea to agree not to go. Like the little snot she is, she wasn’t budging but then she got grounded and it was too late to cancel the trip.”

Ernst breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn’t an effort to spoil him. He was just a replacement for Thea. “So I’m just a replacement for your sister?”

Hänschen laughed. “A nicer replacement.” He leaned towards Ernst. “A more kissable replacement.” Hänschen pulled Ernst into a long, deep kiss. “A more fuckable replacement.” One of Hänschen’s hands strayed down to Ernst’s thigh and squeezed, which caused Ernst to make a squeak that Hänschen absolutely loved, and he moved to pull Ernst in closer, but he found his boyfriend’s hand was pushing him back.

“About that,” Ernst said, “We’re not going to...right?”

Hänschen withdrew his hand from his boyfriend’s lap and sat forward. “Hey,” he said, looking into Ernst’s eyes, “I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want. Do you understand me?”

“I know,” Ernst said, “But what about things I do want but I’m scared of?”

Hänschen tilted his head to the side, looking oddly catlike. “You mean you want to have sex, but you’re scared?”

Ernst nodded. “I-I really like you Hänschen and you’re also incredibly hot.” Hänschen let out a small laugh at the praise. “And I do want to… just, just not yet. It’s our first real date. I don’t… I haven’t… I know you’ve done this before and I’m completely lost. It’s like… like you’re the senior quarterback and I’m some freshman who’s never put on the equipment, never even passed a football around with his friends.”

“Except,” Hänschen said, smirking, “I’m only the guy screwing the senior quarterback in secret.”

“Really?” Ernst blushed at the mental image, but was also interested in this kind of gossip. Hänschen nodded.

“Well, at the beginning of the year. And then there was you.”

“Then there was those three girls you met at homecoming, then the two swimmers, then Bobby, _then_ me,” Ernst corrected him and Hänschen looked genuinely pained.   
“Why do you have to call me on my shit like that?”

“Because,” Ernst kissed him on the nose, “You get all sensitive when people call you on your shit, and I like sensitive Hänschen.” Hänschen grimaced, but when Ernst kissed him again, he smiled.

The cab stopped. “Let’s go. Our train’s in three minutes.” Hänschen kissed Ernst before climbing out of the cab and rushing up to the platform. Ernst followed three steps behind him.

 

Melchior's bedroom wasn't really a bedroom. The entire basement of his house was his to live in, complete with queen size bed, mini fridge, and a huge desk covered in fountain pens and half-written stories. The first time Moritz had come down, he remembered marveling at the space. At the time, he had been thirteen and Melchior had just started living in the basement. It seemed to cool, the isolation and the sheer space. Now it was just another part of the backdrop. 

Moritz flopped onto Melchior’s bed, throwing his backpack onto the floor and staring at the ceiling. “Fuck I don't want to study.”

“Then we don't have to.” Melchior dropped his bag and walked over to Moritz, leaning over him before swiftly straddling his boyfriend and kissing him bruisingly. It had been four days since the two boys had been alone in private, which meant it had been four days since they'd done anything more intimate than brief kisses goodbye. Melchior was more than a little excited to finally have some time alone with Moritz. 

Melchior’s lips made his way down Moritz’s face and to his neck. Moritz sighed contentedly and closed his eyes before a realization dawned on him and his eyes flew open. He sat up, pushing Melchior off him.

“What?” Melchior looked scared and a little annoyed.

“No marks. My dad…”

“Okay. No marks. I promise.” Melchior leaned forward but Moritz turned away. “What now?” Melchior sounded mostly exasperated, but Moritz knew Melchior was also worried about him. Moritz didn’t start ever, but he also didn’t pull away like this. Something was wrong.

“I just... “ Moritz stood up, looking for his backpack that he had thrown so haphazardly onto the floor. “I actually need to study.”

Melchior blinked a few times, waiting for Moritz to say, “Just kidding! Come here Melchi.” When no such request came he said, “Yeah, okay,” and stood up to find his bag. He settled down next to Moritz on his bed, trying not to stare at or think about his boyfriend as they prepared for their Latin midterm. For almost two hours they sat there, no sound other than the turning of pages, Moritz’s occasional questions, and Melchior’s crisp answers. He wasn’t  _ trying _ to be mean, but if Moritz was just going to study and ask a few questions, he could’ve gone home and texted Melchior. Melchior knew it wasn’t fair to force Moritz to spend time at home, but he was sitting there and being just so tantalizingly… Moritz. It wasn’t fair. Maybe the others, Wendla and Ilse and Moritz and Ernst, could live like this, but Melchior needed someone (and he was partial about it being Moritz) to touch him all the time. Why couldn’t his boyfriend be more like Hänschen?

Melchior knew he wasn’t being fair, but he also wasn’t thinking rationally. It might have only been four days, but Melchior was so incredibly sexually frustrated, and he knew that, save for the two small brunette boys they were dating, Hänschen would happily screw him into next week. Melchior shook his head. Thinking like this wasn’t fair to Moritz. Melchior and Hänschen had been ages ago. He hadn’t loved Hänschen. He loved Moritz. He just wished Moritz was a little less afraid of people watching them and a little more willing to jump into bed.

“So Hänschen and Ernst are cute together,” Melchior said, not sure what he wanted Moritz to say but knowing that he needed to get them to talking about themselves somehow. 

“Yeah,” Moritz said, correcting one of his translations in red pen, “But I don’t think we’re ever going to be able to speak to Ernst again.”

“How do you mean?” Melchior was watching Moritz, all pretenses of working on his Latin abandoned.

“I mean,” Moritz said, still rifling through papers, “Hänschen seems to be determined to always have his mouth on Ernst.”

“It’s cute,” Melchior argued, “And Ernst isn’t complaining.”

Moritz shrugged. “I’d be embarrassed. Being pushed up against every wall in the school by your incredibly hot boyfriend? No thank you.”

“So you think Hänschen’s hot?” Melchior still didn’t know where this conversation was going, but he knew he wanted to keep talking.

“Duh. But not as hot as you.” Moritz grinned and Melchior couldn’t help but grin back. He didn’t deserve this unendingly sweet boy, especially when all he’d been able to think about for the past five minutes was how to get him to put down the Latin book and kiss Melchior.

Melchior’s prayers were answered a few minutes later, but not in a way even vaguely resembling what he had hoped for. Moritz’s breathing was speeding up as he scoured a dictionary for a single word that he could not find. He started whimpering in a way that was distinctly distressed and in no way sexy, and when Melchior looked up, Moritz’s hands were shaking.

“Moritz?”

Moritz looked up at Melchior, jaw trembling, hands shaking violently, breaths coming shallowly.

“Moritz, drop the book.” When he didn’t, Melchior pried the book out of his hands and looked at him. “Moritz!” He put his hands on Moritz’s shoulders. “Moritz, it’s okay.” Moritz started rocking back and forth, lips still trembling, breaths still shallow. “Moritz, I’m here.” Moritz nodded. “Moritz, can I touch your back?” Moritz nodded again and Melchior moved to sit behind Moritz and pulled him into his arms, Moritz’s back pressed against his chest. “You’re okay Moritz.” Moritz nodded and closed his eyes, rocking back and forth, Melchior’s arms wrapped around him.

Moritz’s breaths deepened and he began to rock more slowly until his breaths were normal and he laid back into Melchior. “I’m sorry Melchi.”

“It’s not your fault Moritz.”

“Still...you don’t need this.”

“I need you.”

So close. So close to the three words Moritz needed with every fiber of his being to hear Melchior say. It was  _ almost _ good enough.

“What time is it?”

Melchior squirmed to pull out his phone. “6:45.”

“I should go.”

Melchior sighed and nodded. “Wouldn’t want Mr. Stiefel to get angry, would we?”

Moritz packed up his stuff and Melchior walked him up the stairs. It wasn’t until they were at the front door that Mrs. Gabor called, “Melchi? Is that you?”

“Yeah Ma I'm just walking Moritz out.”

She appeared in the entryway door. “No you're not. Have you seen how hard it's snowing?”

The two boys looked out the window and saw snow was falling fast and thick. “I'll call Mrs. Stiefel.”

“No, no, it's fine. I can walk home.”

“Moritz, you live a mile away. I'm sure your mother and father will be fine with you staying here just for tonight. I'll go call.” She walked away and Moritz dropped his bag before sliding down the wall to the floor. 

“My dad’s going to kill me.”

Melchior slid down next to him and wrapped his arms around Moritz. “We were studying and you can't control the weather. Your dad's irrational, but he's not  _ that _ irrational.”

Moritz leaned into Melchior’s shoulder and whispered so quietly Melchior almost didn't hear him, “Do you think your mom knows?”

Melchior tilted his head. He'd never actually considered this. “Well she knows I like guys, but she didn't figure out me and Wendla or me and Hänschen. So maybe?”

“We have to tell her.” Moritz never sounded as urgent as he did in that moment. “We have to tell her and tell her not to say anything to my parents.”

“Mom! Can you come in here for a second?” Melchior called. Seconds later Mrs. Gabor was back in the doorway. “Moritz and I have something to tell you.” Moritz nodded, but it was clear that Melchior would have to vocalize this alone. “Moritz and I are dating.”

Mrs. Gabor nodded. “I know.”

“You can't tell my parents,” Moritz pleaded. 

“Is this really what you had to tell me? You boys really don't give me enough credit. Of course I figured it out, and of course I wouldn't tell your parents Moritz.”

Melchior and Moritz exchanged a look. “Did you know with other people?” Melchior asked. 

“No, but you told me about Hänschen. You asked me to wake you up when I got home because you had to tell me something and I woke you up. You said, ‘Mom, I had sex with Hänschen.’” Moritz laughed and Melchior turned red. “We talked about it, but you didn't remember telling me, so I never brought it up.”

“Okay…” Melchior was clearly uncomfortable with the unclear amount of information about his sex life that he had divulged to his mother. “Thanks for being cool mom.”

She nodded. “You boys want dinner?”

They called for a pizza, and Moritz’s parents let him stay in order to protect all parties involved. Moritz thanked Mrs. Gabor profusely before he and Melchior retired to the basement. Melchior gave Moritz a change of pajamas and they both crawled into bed. “Hey,” Melchior said, “It's only 9:30. Do you wanna mess around?”

“Mess around?”Moritz said into his pillow. “That might be the single most unerotic thing you've ever said.”

“So you don’t want to kiss me?”

Moritz turned over and looked into his boyfriend’s blue eyes. “Don’t be stupid Melchi.” Melchior grinned, a show-stopping, dazzling, infuriatingly sexy smile before he leaned in to kiss Moritz. Moritz knotted his fingers into Melchior’s hair and pulled his face closer. Melchior pushed Moritz onto his back and climbed over him, moving his mouth down Moritz’s neck. He had his hands on the neck of Moritz’s pajama shirt when he looked up at Moritz, whose eyes were closed and whose breathing was slowing instead of speeding up. Melchior untangled himself from Moritz, who whined slightly in protest. 

“You’re falling asleep Moritz. We always have the morning.” He clicked the light off and wrapped his arms around Moritz. “Goodnight babe.”

“Goodnight Melchi,” Moritz muttered.

 

It was 6:00, and Ilse was sitting in her mom’s convertible texting Wendla.

Ilse: You ready?

Wendla: Two minutes please

Ilse: Oh you women take so long to get ready

Wendla: Haha. Getting my clothes

Ilse stayed in the car, contemplating the upcoming weekend. Two and a half days in her mom’s convertible with Wendla. How amazing this weekend could be. But first came the awkward talk they agreed they were going to have. But if that turned out the way Ilse hoped it would, it would all be worth it.

Ilse was so lost in thought, contemplating all the ways that the conversation could possibly go, the worst of which involved a break up, that she hardly noticed Wendla flying out of her house in a way that was very contrasting to the way Wendla usually moved. She threw her bag in the back seat of Ilse’s car and hopped the door into the front before pulling Ilse into a long, deep kiss. She leaned back, a wild light in her eyes that Ilse had never seen before.

“Whoa,” Ilse said, leaning back into the driver’s seat.

“Good whoa or bad whoa?” Wendla asked, buckling her seatbelt.

“Definitely good whoa,” Ilse said, starting the car and checking the road before pulling out of the spot.

“This is going to be a great weekend!” Wendla smiled at Ilse, who nodded.

“It certainly is.”

They didn’t say much as Ilse got on the highway, but finally Wendla said, “Can you close the roof?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” Ilse pressed a button and the roof of the convertible closed. 

“Why do you guys even have a convertible when it gets this cold in the winter?”

Ilse shrugged. “My mom likes it. We drive the car out to the beach house in the summer and it just feels nicer to drive around without a roof out there.” She was quiet for a minute before she said, “You should come out to the beach this summer.”

“You, me, and your mom?” Wendla teased.

“Actually,” Ilse spoke very carefully, afraid of making Wendla uncomfortable or nervous, “My mom is usually out with her friends or stuck in the city on business so it’d just be you and me a lot of the time.”

There was silence. “Oh,” Wendla finally said, “That could be cool.”

Ilse took a deep breath to steel herself. It was now or have it hang over them the whole weekend. Although if the outcome was one of the bad ones, Ilse might not want the answer until later.

“So,” Ilse said, staring at the road on purpose, “Sex.”

“Yeah,” Wendla said, “Sex.”

“Thoughts? Feelings? Ideas? Questions?”

“You haven’t… with anyone… right?”

Ilse shook her head. “Well, not like  _ sex _ sex. I’ve gotten to third with someone else.”

Wendla blinked. “Oh.”

“It didn’t mean anything,” Ilse said, “It was back in my ninth grade party phase and we were both really drunk.”

“Who?” Ilse shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Who Ilse? I have to know.”

Ilse sighed. “Moritz.”

If Wendla’s head had turned any faster, her neck would’ve snapped. “Don’t joke.”

“Not joking. The first, and so far only, person I had oral with was freaking Moritz Stiefel.”

Wendla laughed. When Ilse threw her a look like she was deranged she said, “It’s funny! We were best friends and they were best friends and I dated Melchior and you blew Moritz,” Ilse squirmed in her seat at the words, “and now we’re dating and they’re dating ‘on the DL.’” Ilse laughed at the air quotes around the last three words. As much as Melchior and Moritz didn’t want to admit it, everyone knew they were dating. 

“Okay, now that you know my story, what about you? What’s the farthest you’ve gone with anyone?”

“Second with you and Melchior.” 

Ilse nodded, unsure what to say next.

“Ilse?”

“Yeah?” Ilse looked over at Wendla for as long as she could afford to while driving.

“I want to have sex with you.”

If Ilse hadn’t been half expecting it, or if she had a little less self control, she would’ve slammed her foot on the brake or hand on the horn. As it was, Ilse turned to Wendla for a little too long and Wendla said, “Ilse, the road!” Ilse turned back to the road where nothing exciting was happening anyway, but she didn’t want to make Wendla feel unsafe. Outside, it began to snow. 

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“So… so you want to too?” Wendla furrowed her eyebrows.

Ilse looked at her like she was deranged. “Of course! I’m not insane.”

“Okay. Okay.” They were quiet before Wendla said, “Like… when though?”

“We're going to be all alone this weekend.” She paused, and when Wendla didn't say anything either she added, “But that seems awfully soon.”

Wendla opened her mouth to say something before her phone chimed. She pulled it out. “Martha asked if we’re there yet.”

“Of course we aren't! We've got another hour and a half to go.”

“She's saying something about a snowstorm.” Wendla looked at Ilse. “Radio?”

Ilse nodded and Wendla tuned to the weather channel. “And the city is advising people to stay off the roads as sanitation tries to deal with the snow—” Ilse clicked the radio off. 

“We're going to find a motel.” 

“What about the concert?”

“I'm not driving through this if the official advice is not to. If anything happened to you because of me… I couldn't deal with that. So let's find a motel.”

Wendla put her hand on Ilse’s, knowing not to be any more distracting than that. Ilse slowly turned off the highway and they drove through the town before Wendla saw a motel. They took their bags out of the back seat and ran inside, being careful in the snow but also wanting to get inside as soon as possible. 

“One room please,” Ilse said at the front desk.

Clacking away on the computer, the woman at the desk said, “Driven off the road by the snow?” The girls nodded. “You’re not the first, and believe me you won’t be the last. It’s going to snow very hard tonight.” She hit a key on the keyboard, pulled two key cards out of a machine, and said, “You’re all set. Have a good stay girls!”

Wendla took the key cards and read the room number. She and Ilse were silent in the elevator, but when the door of their room closed, Ilse slammed her fist against it and yelled, “Fuck!”

Wendla put her bag down and rushed back to her girlfriend, wrapping her arms around Ilse’s waist and whispering into her ear, “It’ll be fine sweetheart.”

Ilse whipped herself out of Wendla’s grip and stalked into the room, dropping her bag near Wendla’s. “We were going to go to the most epic concert and have the most epic date in history and now we’re trapped in a freaking motel for the night, possibly the whole weekend!” Ilse kicked the dresser, which resulted in nothing more than an injured foot. 

“Babe,” Wendla said from behind her, not daring to touch her yet. “Just because we’re not going to the concert doesn’t mean we can’t have a great weekend.” When Ilse didn’t say anything, she turned her around and put her hands on Ilse’s shoulders. “And I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure Hänschen and Ernst have us beat for best date so far.”

“Just because it’s their first date…”

“Nah, it’s because it’s just what Ernst has always dreamed of in every way.”

Ilse stuck her lip out in her signature pout. “Well if that’s what you think…”

Wendla laughed. “You’re still the best girlfriend in the world. And this date still would have been epic. But maybe it still can be.”

“How?”

Wendla settled herself onto one of the beds in the room. “Weird that they gave us two beds huh?”

“They probably assumed we were sisters or best friends or something.” Ilse hadn’t missed the sudden subject change, and was going along with it just to see where it went.

“Ridiculous.” Wendla leaned back on her elbows, shaking her head slightly. 

“Heteronormativity is everywhere.” There was a pause. “Are you ever going to finish your idea of how this date can still be epic?”

“Isn’t it clear?” Wendla bent her knees and opened her thighs a little. The movement did not go unnoticed by Ilse.

“Maybe, but how about you spell it out for me?” Ilse leaned down over her girlfriend, tantalizingly close.

“We can take the next step together.” Wendla pulled Ilse’s mouth down to hers. “C’mon is that all you got Neumann?”

“You know it’s not.” 

“Show me Ils.”

Ilse gladly welcomed the invitation, and quickly threw one leg over her girlfriend, kneeling on either side of Wendla’s hips. Almost in sync, the two girl wrapped their fingers into the other’s hair, Ilse tugging on Wendla’s long brown curls and Wendla twirling Ilse’s short black and blue recently shredded straight hair. As Ilse moved her mouth down Wendla’s neck, her hands took the opposite position at Wendla’s hips, moving up towards the girl’s head. Wendla pulled back as Ilse’s fingers brushed the bottom of her rib cage.

“Ilse?”

“Yeah babe?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Ilse’s lips met Wendla’s again as she pulled at the bottom of her shirt. With a winning grin, Wendla pulled back enough to rid herself of her shirt.

 

Thea hated her room. Everything about it was her father’s choice. The pink walls and matching bedspread, the carpet that Thea couldn't describe other than “very 70s,” the white wooden bookshelves, the seemingly hundreds of plush unicorns were all chosen by Mr. Rilow. He'd argue that Thea had chosen everything, which was true. Eight years ago. Thea didn't see how it was fair that she had to live in a relic of the past just because her father couldn't move on. She knew Hänschen was in a similar situation, but he hadn't changed as much as she had. Hänschen was still fine with blue walls and sheets, his carpet had been removed after he puked on it in fourth grade, his bookshelves were still white, and he had never been one for dolls or stuffed animals. Possibly the only embarrassing part of Hänschen's decor was the motorcycle print on the comforter, but Thea figured when people were in Hänschen's room they weren't focusing on the bedspread. 

Thea hated being Hänschen's younger sister. Her brother had always been as civil as older brothers are, and more kind lately as they both struggled against their father’s iron grip. Hänschen wasn't the problem. It was his reputation. People came to Thea to try to get set up with Hänschen, or because they thought she would go down as easily as he did, or because they wanted a threesome with the Rilow twins (“We’re not twins! And that's fucking incest!” Thea had screamed at more people than she felt was reasonable.). All of it was very tiring. She didn't like to deal with people, especially people who assumed that because they knew her brother’s reputation that they knew the whole family's story. 

Thea hated being a Rilow. Her family was under-handed, manipulative, mean, superficially flawless. Inside she was constantly breaking from her father's rules and pressures she put on herself. Maybe all of her problems could be solved if she could just cross out the Rilow that followed her name. 

_ Only two and a half years to graduation. Five semesters. 900 days. _ The thoughts burned Thea’s mind. It felt so far away, the eventual escape from her father’s iron grip.

Her phone rang and she picked up. “Hello?”

“You sound like you got hit by a bus,” Martha teased, but Thea heard the worry in her voice, “I'm guessing you're not coming over tonight?”

“I'm fine. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You know…. Everything.”

“Your dad?”

Martha paid too much attention for Thea to get away with half-truths, but Thea appreciated it. “Yeah. I think it'll be easier to sneak out tomorrow night. Sorry our legit sleepover plans got canceled.”

Martha laughed. “I'm not going to be mad at you for calling your asshole dad an asshole.”

“At least you don't have to live through it.” Martha sighed heavily, and Thea wondered if maybe sweet Martha had her own closet full of skeletons to share. 

“You sound tired.”

“It's only 9:30.”

“The time doesn't stop you being tired, and it doesn't affect how much sleep you got in the last week, which we both know wasn't enough. And you're going to need to be rested up for tomorrow night.” Thea’s heart rate sped up. Contrary to popular hope, Thea was not as experienced as her brother. The farthest she’d gone with anyone had been as far as she and Martha had gone earlier that day. Why she had decided to push it in a school hallway was a mystery even to her, but then her brother had had sex with the world’s biggest asshole because a sweet guy half rejected him and her father had threatened to kick her and Hänschen out if they didn't pretend to be straight. Lack of logical thought seemed to be hereditary in the Rilow family. 

“Okay, I'll sleep. But it better be worth it.”

“It will be. Goodnight Thea.”

“Goodnight Martha.” Thea threw her phone onto her bedside table and collapsed backwards onto her bed. It was quite early, but she was extremely tired and there was nothing better to do. She shimmied out of her jeans and threw off her plaid button down before extracting her bra from under her tank top. Thea clicked her desk lamp off and burrowed under her covers, imagining this time tomorrow when she would be doing the number one thing her father didn't want her to be doing. Thea smiled to herself at the thought and closed her eyes. 

 

The city was a whirlwind to Ernst. The hotel room, the dinner, the party (“No Hänschen you can't steal alcohol from the bar!”), the boy: it all seemed too good to be true. At eleven thirty when they finally got back to their room, Ernst thought he could have passed out in his suit. That is, until Hänschen pressed him up against the back of their suite door and kissed him so hard Ernst felt pressure on his gums. “You look so good in that suit,” Hänschen whispered into his ear, running his fingers down the front of Ernst's shirt, “But I bet you'd look even better out of it.”

“Let's find out.” Ernst pulled on Hänschen's tie, loosening it and pushing it over his head. Hänschen immediately got to work on the buttons on Ernst’s shirt and pulled off his boyfriend's tie. Hänschen pulled back from Ernst to remove his own shirt, and Ernst took the time to slowly shake off his suit jacket and shirt. Hänschen watched him like a cat watches a mouse. 

“Don't tease me Robel.”

“I thought you'd like it,” Ernst said shyly but playfully. 

“I'd rather touch you until you go crazy than stand here watching you strip until I lose my mind.” He proved his point by pulling Ernst in, their bare torsos meeting as Ernst gasped at the full-body contact. He had recognized the heat in his own groin from the second Hänschen had purred in his ear, but he never would have expected Hänschen to be as hard as he was. Hänschen's fingers traveled across Ernst’s back delicately. “Are you okay Ernst?” 

Ernst nodded. “Just-just surprised. I don't think I've ever made…”

“You don't think you've ever made anyone hard Ernst?” Ernst nodded and Hänschen laughed. “Have you looked at yourself?” He traced his hands over Ernst’s back and chest as he talked. “You have insane muscles and that beautiful light in your eyes. Your smile lights up whole rooms. You're beautiful.” He kissed Ernst's lips. “Gorgeous.” He kissed his neck. “Insanely sexy.” He grabbed Ernst’s ass and laughed at the little gasp that came out of Ernst’s mouth. Hänschen slipped his hands around Ernst’s hips to rest on the top of his thighs. He whispered in Ernst's ear, “Want some help with that uncontrollable blood flow?”

Ernst's head jerked back and he looked at Hänschen, who immediately started back pedaling. “Only if you want to! Like I said, no pressure, I just thought you might… I don't know what I thought.” He sighed. “Sorry Ernst I'm not exactly good at the whole dating—”

“Shh…” Ernst put a hand over Hänschen's mouth. “It wasn't anything like that. I was just surprised. Of course it's okay. It's more than okay. It's—”

“You don't have to talk anymore,” Hänschen said, drifting towards Ernst's mouth and making talking impossible anyway as he trapped Ernst’s lips in his own. He led Ernst towards the bed in the center of the room, slowly undoing Ernst’s slacks as they went. Ernst kicked off his shoes before lying down and Hänschen straddled his hips, looking down at the most beautiful boy in the world. “You're gorgeous Ernst.”

“You're one to talk.” Ernst was surprised his voice still worked as Hänschen's mouth painted little red spots down his neck and his torso, stopping when he reached the waistband of Ernst’s pants. 

“You're sure this is okay Ernst?” Hänschen looked up at Ernst. 

“Just like… Your hand right?”

“If that's what you want.”

“Well what did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking I could show you one of my favorite things to do with my mouth,” Hänschen drawled. 

“Oh,” Ernst said. “Yeah, sure. I mean, sounds amazing. No one’s ever…”

“It's an honor to be the first person to suck your dick Ernst.” Hänschen pulled the trousers off of Ernst’s hips and slid them to the floor before kissing his way back up from Ernst’s ankles to the inside of his thighs. Ernst still couldn't believe this was really happening to him. The boy of his dreams, not only dating him but taking him to the city in trains and renting nice hotel rooms and  _ sucking his dick.  _ Ernst tried to focus on what was happening. He didn't know if Hänschen was really good or if it was just Ernst’s first blow job or a combination of both but he did know that if he could only feel one thing for the rest of his life, it would be this crazy euphoria. 

And just as he realized it, Hänschen pulled off. He grinned smugly up at Ernst and said, “You know you don't have to be quiet Ernst.”

“We're in a hotel room.”

“And what, pray tell, do you think every other couple in this hotel is doing right now?” He kissed Ernst’s thigh. “I want to hear you Ernst.” Hänschen wrapped his mouth again around Ernst, who immediately moaned. Hänschen smiled as much as he could with Ernst’s dick taking up space in his mouth. He flicked his tongue around and Ernst moaned louder than before, his breath speeding up as Hänschen did what Hänschen thought he did best. Ernst tangled his fingers in Hänschen’s hair. Hänschen swallowed around Ernst and sent Ernst over the edge.

“Hänschen– Hänschen!”

He took Ernst’s hand and tried to mumble, “I love you Ernst.” The vibrations sent shocks through Ernst’s whole body and he shuddered under Hänschen. 

“Hänschen….” Ernst’s voice trailed off as he finished in Hänschen’s mouth. Hänschen moved up Ernst’s body, pulling Ernst’s back onto Hänschen’s chest. “I love you Hänschen.” 

“I love you Ernst.”

Ernst flipped over, resting his hands on Hänschen’s hips. “Can I prove it?”

“You don’t need to prove anything…”

“I want to Hänschen. Please let me.”

Hänschen smiled at Ernst, his eyes trailing down his boyfriend’s beautiful bare body. “I can never say no to you, you know that.”

Ernst grinned, his face still slightly flushed as he moved down Hänschen’s chest.

  
  



	2. Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here!!!!!!! sorry it took so long I hope y'all like it  
> Tags have been updated for this chapter  
> If you want to skip m/m sex skip from around "If this was all he had left, he was going to use it up" to "Wow what?"   
> If you want to skip f/f sex skip from "You can't imagine how few shits I give about your breath" to "What are you doing?"  
> A character talks about being sexually abused by a family member, it's mentioned that several characters smoke weed, and a character mentions self harm, but nothing too graphic/long-winded  
> buckle up because it's wild

Melchior had always been an early riser. When he was a little kid, his parents had prayed it was a phase. Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t. Fortunately, as Melchior got older he developed the ability to entertain himself. So instead of shaking Moritz awake when he woke up at 6:45 Saturday morning, Melchior lay there, watching his boyfriend breathe. He couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow he had done something wrong. In the library and the night before, Moritz had jumped like Melchior’s touch burned him. 

_ “Okay. No marks. I promise.” Melchior leaned forward but Moritz turned away. “What now?” Something was wrong. _

_ “I just...I actually need to study.” _

Because Melchior’s thought process was very streamlined, he more often than not replicated the same train of thought, and his thoughts turned guiltily towards Hänschen again. Melchior sat up. He needed to talk to someone. The problem with dating your best friend is that in some ways you lose your best friend. Melchior couldn’t say, “Hey Moritz I’m having some issues with my boyfriend,” or worse, “I’m having some stray thoughts about my sort-of-ex.” That’s why Melchior had other friends. He wouldn’t call Ilse or Wendla or Thea or Martha because he didn’t need the girls sighing and telling him, “If you love him, you love him and that’s enough!” (And Thea would probably say, “I still can't believe you slept with my brother. Honestly Melchior.”)That left Hänschen and Ernst, and Ernst wouldn’t be useful in this realm. Melchior pulled his phone off his bedside and pulled up Hänschen’s contact. Before Melchior could change his mind, he pressed call.

“What the fuck Melchior? It’s seven in the morning!” Hänschen sounded groggy and Melchior remembered what he had half-forgotten: most teenagers slept in on the weekend. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tease Hänschen.

“Hello to you too Hänschen.”

“You can’t expect a man to be civil when you wake him at this ungodly hour.”

“Hänschen it’s seven. It’s not my fault you and Ernst stayed up until five a.m. doing God knows what,” Melchior laughed quietly, trying not to wake Moritz.

“Pardon me, but we didn’t get into the city until six thirty and then had dinner reservations at seven and passes into this exhibition opening at eight–”

“You swipe anything?”

“What?”

“I mean drinks not art.”

Hänschen laughed on the other end. “I wanted to but Ernst said my odds of getting kissed were going to be almost non-existent if I tried to get anything from the bar so you know, one vice for another. Anyway, then we left the museum around eleven, got back to the hotel about eleven thirty, and stayed up until only about two doing God knows what. Not that you’re one to talk, I’m sure you and Moritz were up well past any reasonable bedtime.”

“Actually that’s what I’m calling about. Moritz was being all withdrawn yesterday and we were asleep at ten thirty.”

“Well you know what Moritz is like. He’s probably just stressed.”

Melchior looked at the sleeping Moritz and smiled. “Yeah, I know. I’m just worried.”

“About him?”

“About both of us.” He paused. “I don’t think he likes me anymore Hänschen.”

“Then you’re dumber than I thought you were. Moritz thinks the sun shines out of your ass.”

“So why doesn’t he want to touch me anymore?”

Hänschen shrugged, then remembered Melchior couldn’t see him. “Supposedly these things happen in relationships, not that I would know.”

“Well what are you supposed to do then?”

“When?”

“At the end of the day. After all the kissing and the touching and the,” Melchior sighed and laid down, “the really  _ really _ great sex. What do you do then?”

Hänschen ran his fingers through his hair. “First of all, why do you think I'm capable of answering these questions? You're Mr. Committed Boyfriend. I'm Mr. Fuck and Leave Before Sunrise. You should have the answers.” Melchior laughed, and something changed in Hänschen's tone. “But second of all, whatever you want to do. I can't tell you how to be Moritz’s boyfriend anymore than I could tell you how to be Ilse’s girlfriend. This is your thing to figure out.”

“I feel like an awful person Hänschen.”

“Why?”

“Because when Moritz isn’t touching me I try to think of ways to get him to touch me and if I manage to stray away from that I end up thinking about… other people.”

“Who?” There was a heavy pause and Hänschen said, “You want my help or not?”

Melchior sighed. Why did he always talk himself into corners like this? “You.”

“Makes sense. I was your first, right?” Melchior heard the bit of smugness in Hänschen’s voice and couldn’t help but think that if the blonde boy were in the room with him he’d probably punch him for being an asshole.

“Yeah but doesn’t thinking about people who aren’t my boyfriend make me an awful person?”

“Thoughts, most thoughts anyway, aren’t good or bad. They just are. It’s what you choose to do with those thoughts that matters Melchior.” He paused and said, “I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about you, but we both know you and Moritz are fucking destined for each other, and I know that right now it’s just all about Ernst for me.” He paused again. “Tell anyone I said that and I’ll deny it. And then kill you”

Moritz moved next to Melchior and looked like he was about to sit up. “Alright, thanks. I gotta go Hänschen. Have fun in the city.” He hung up and looked at Moritz.

 

Ernst, rubbing his eyes, sat up next to Hänschen. “Who was on the phone?” he asked groggily.

“Melchior.”

“Talking about what?”

“Issues he was having with Moritz.”

Ernst blinked at Hänschen. “Why would he ask you about relationship issues?”

Hänschen hit him with a pillow. “What I lack in experience feeling-wise I more than compensate for in my sexual experience.” Ernst didn’t have time to agree before Hänschen’s lips met his own.

Ernst kissed Hänschen briefly before pushing back. “It’s been two days. I’ve tried to be patient but… can we talk?”

Hanschen sighed, but smiled at his adorable boyfriend. He leaned back onto the pillows and stared at Ernst. “Yeah. Yeah we can talk. What about?”

“I’m not sure. I’m new to the whole dating thing.”

Hänschen leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “So am I.”

Ernst giggled before he said, “But at least you have other experience.”

A look of shock grew slowly across Hänschen’s face as he processed what Ernst had said. “I was your first  _ anything _ ?”

“Not my first kiss,” Ernst said indignantly, “I’m not that pathetic.”

“Who was your first kiss?”

“Moritz. I told you this story before. He kissed Martha, and then she got all offended because he liked Melchior but right before Moritz could do anything Melchior was suddenly dating Wendla. So Moritz wanted to make Melchior jealous, so he made out with me.”

“Oof. That’s a sucky circumstance.” Hänschen paused. “What happened then?”

“He cried. I thought maybe I was bad or something, but he was just sad about Melchior.” Ernst laughed. “Funny how these things seem to work themselves out, huh?”

“You worry a lot about being bad.” Hänschen wrapped his arms around Ernst.

“I’m new to all this.”

Hänschen made eye contact with his boyfriend and said, “Last night you could’ve fooled me.” He smiled and then said, “You’ve really never done anything?”

Ernst shook his head. “Not before last night.” At the look on Hänschen’s face he said, “What? You’re my best friend Hänschen. Don’t you think I would’ve told you?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I mean, maybe it was something really sketchy, like you gave a football player a handjob at a party.”

Ernst shook his head. “You were the first person to do anything to me, and the first person I did anything to.” He paused. “So I think it’s time for the elephant in the room. You’ve slept with enough people to fill a classroom.”

Hänschen rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “What do you want me to say Ernst?”

Ernst shrugged. “Just the truth, I guess.”

“The truth is that I find sex to be incredibly fun and there are people out there who want to have sex with me but for the past year the only person I could think about was you but I knew I was too damaged for anyone, especially pure, perfect you, to actually love me, so I tried to just keep fucking and hoped that my feelings would go away. And yet, here we are. I’ve slept with a lot of people Ernst, but you’re the only person I want to wake up next to every day.” He looked over at Ernst to gauge his reaction and was thrilled that the other boy was grinning broadly. 

“Hänschen Rilow. Who knew you could be such a romantic?”

Hänschen smiled at him and groaned before sitting up. “Get dressed so we can go eat.” He stood up and purposefully turned away, knowing that looking at any part of Ernst’s (amazing) body would kill any resolve he had to leave the room.

“Ow!” Hänschen turned around to see Ernst stretching his back and looking smug. “Made you look.”

Hänschen turned back around and pulled a shirt on. “Being annoying and smug is my job. You’re supposed to be cute and sweet. Now hurry up. I have plans for us today.”

 

Thea woke up to a banging on her bedroom door. She groaned and turned over, trying to fall back asleep.

“Thea Magdalena Rilow, you wake up this instant!” Thea groaned again into her pillow before she stood up and yanked her door open.

“I’m awake!” she said in her father’s face, before turning around and mumbling, “You fucking happy?”

“You better not have said what I think you just said,” threatened Mr. Rilow from the doorway, “Anyways, I’m off to my business conference. I will see you tomorrow morning.”

“You’re not staying here?” Thea hoped against hope. If her father was out for the night, that meant sleeping over at Martha’s house would be so much easier.

“As much as I’m loathe to leave the house unnecessarily, your mother insisted that I take it. A free room is a free room after all. See you tomorrow darling.” Mr. Rilow closed the door and Thea listened to him walk down the stairs. Her heart was beating fast and her mind was racing. Her mother had initially given her permission to sleep over at Martha’s and had been slightly disapproving of her grounding to begin with, and now she had convinced Mr. Rilow to stay away on the very night Thea had been meant to go out. It couldn’t be a coincidence. For the first time in a while, Thea felt that her and her mother might be on the same team.

Thea got dressed quickly, throwing on a t-shirt, fresh jeans, and a hoodie. She searched her bed sheets for her cell phone. When she found it, she texted her brother. 

Thea: You smoke right?

Hänschen: What?

Thea: Do you have any weed in your room?

Hänschen: ...I’m not sure how to answer that

Thea: I’m not gonna tell dad or anything stupid like that, I’m just bored af in the house by myself

Hänschen: Uh, yeah, I guess. There’s a joint in my thin desk drawer and other stuff in a brown box under my bed.

Thea: Thanks bro

Hänschen: Hold up, since when do you smoke?

Thea: I’m much less innocent than you think big bro

Hänschen: How else? ;)

Thea: Gross. Like I’d tell you anything like that

Hänschen: You tell me about Martha, I’ll tell you what me and Ernst got up to last night ;)

Thea: Fucking gross Hänsi, like I even want to know

Hänschen: He’s a moaner.

Thea: HANS JOHANN RILOW!! ENOUGH!!

Thea: *barfing noises*

Hänschen: Sorry. 

Hänschen: (You and Martha are really cute by the way)

Thea: Thanks bro

Hänschen: No problem. (Way better than your hopeless crush on Melchior)

Thea: Like I’m the only one to have a hopeless crush on that messy Gabor boy.

Hänschen: True

Thea: Not like you didn’t chase after him too

Hänschen: At least I succeeded ;) (He’s pretty quiet)

Thea: Gross! Go spend time with your boyfriend 

Hänschen: And you go sneak out of the house to smoke with your girlfriend

Hänschen: Be careful with the snow! It’s dangerous out there.

Thea: She doesn’t smoke, but I getcha. I know how to deal with snow, I’m not a child. Bye bro

She smiled, tucking her phone into her pocket. Thea crept quietly down the hallway to her brother’s room. She opened the desk as quietly as possible and pulled the joint out before searching under his bed for the box. She found it and pulled out a slick silver lighter, remembering to thank her brother as profusely as possible as soon as they were both free. Thea replaced the box before yanking out her brother’s emergency ladder. She put it out the window, scrambled down the steps, and hid the ladder in the bushes.

Wendla woke up to the sound of Ilse humming quietly, the smell of tea brewing, and early morning light streaming into their room. She sat up and stretched, yawning.

“About time,” Ilse teased from an armchair where she was checking her phone. “Good morning sleepy head.”

“I smell tea.” Wendla looked around expectantly, as though a bucket of tea might be floating somewhere in the room, waiting for her.

“Crappy motel tea, but tea,” Ilse said, “It’s by the TV.” 

Wendla looked at Ilse, pleading with her eyes. Ilse laughed and shook her head. Wendla huffed and reluctantly stood up, walking over to the TV and taking a sip of her tea.

Ilse locked her phone and slipped it into her pocket. “Ready for some bad news?”

Wendla sighed and placed her tea back on the table. “I just woke up. Is it really time for bad news already?”

“Unfortunately,” Ilse said. “The concert’s been canceled because the roads are still blocked. No concert, no driving.”

Sighing exasperatedly, Wendla collapsed backwards onto the bed. “Of course. We plan an epic date and we miss it because of the FUCKING SNOW.” She turned over onto her stomach, her face buried in the pillows. 

Laughing at her girlfriend’s theatrics, Ilse walked over to the bed and put her hand between Wendla’s shoulder blades. “Wendla?” Wendla grunted into the pillow. “Wendla Bergmann?”

“What do you want from me?” Her voice was muffled in the pillow, but her dissatisfaction at missing the concert was not.

“We can still have a great date,” Ilse said soothingly, running her fingers through Wendla’s hair, playing with the brown curls while her girlfriend pouted. “Just think about it: a whole day where we don’t have to do anything or go anywhere.”

“I want to go back to sleep,” Wendla muttered.

Ilse stared at Wendla, clearly not amused by that idea. “Um, no. We’re going to take advantage of the fact that no one in this hotel knows us.”

Wendla sat up and looked at Ilse. “Are we gonna prank people?”

“No,” Ilse laughed, “I was thinking something a little more private.”

“Oh,” Wendla said, nodding and only half-kidding, “You want to fuck really loudly.”

Ilse’s level tone was completely at odds with the furious red blush covering her face and neck. “Well you’re usually pretty loud anyway––”

Wendla hit her with a pillow and a shout of, “Am not!”

“Please! That time we played Seven Minutes in Heaven at Melchior’s house he asked me if I had been fucking you because you were moaning so loudly.” Ilse smiled at her pouting girlfriend.

“That did not happen.”

“Did so,” Ilse said, aware of how much the two of them sounded like petulant children, “Ask him if you don’t believe me.” She paused, slowly moving one of her hands to rest on one of Wendla’s knees. “I think he was jealous,” she whispered conspiratorially, “I think he wishes you’d been that loud for him.”

“Is it really that bad?” Wendla asked so quietly Ilse almost missed the question. 

“Well, I think it’s really hot,” Ilse said, her hand slowly inching up Wendla’s thigh. “So don’t stop on my account. 

“I think you’re really hot,” Wendla countered.

“Funny, because I think you’re really hot,” Ilse responded, leaning in closer.

“Oh shut up,” Wendla said, laying down and pulling her girlfriend on top of her. Their lips collided and Wendla wrapped her arms around Ilse’s head. “Wait,” she said, pulling back slightly, “I have morning breath.”

Ilse looked at Wendla like she’d grown a second head. “You can’t  _ imagine _ how few shits I give about your breath right now.”

“Actually, I can,” Wendla said, pulling Ilse’s hands under her nightgown. 

“You're wearing so little,” Ilse groaned into Wendla’s neck. 

“Isn't that a good thing?” Wendla asked, hands tangled in Ilse’s hair. “There's so little separating us.”

Ilse grinded gently into Wendla’s leg. “Usually, yeah. But today it's just unfair because I'm overdressed.”

Wendla flipped them over, her legs on either side of Ilse’s waist. “We’ll just have to fix that then.” She quickly pulled off Ilse’s sweater as she painted her neck and collar with red and purple kisses. 

“I'm so glad you're not a pillow princess,” Ilse whispered, her hand combing through Wendla’s hair.

“What does that mean?” Wendla asked into Ilse’s neck, tugging at her shirt. 

“I was kind of scared when we started dating that you'd be a pillow princess–like the type of girl who is always lying face up on the bottom and never does anything.” Ilse's shirt came over her face as Wendla yanked it off her. 

“Well, you're welcome.” Wendla bit at Ilse’s chest, teasing toward her nipples. 

“I'm not going to be able to wear anything low cut,” Ilse whined. 

“It's January babe. You shouldn't be wearing anything low cut anyways. Unless it's in private with me.” Wendla pulled Ilse's leggings down, grabbing her ass as she passed it and throwing the leggings onto the ground. Ilse stroked Wendla's thighs, fingers creeping towards the edge of her underwear. Wendla gently reached around, nails trailing softly on Ilse’s rib cage. 

“What about when we go to dances?”

Wendla laughed. “We already have dresses for the dances and they're not low cut. Relax babe.” She unclasped Ilse’s bra and pulled it off her arms. 

“We’re uneven again.”

“Huh?”

“I'm just in my underwear, but you've got your nightgown.”

“Well, fix it.” Wendla put her arms up, and Ilse pushed her nightgown off, giggling at the way the light hit the silky fabric before the dress hit the floor. Ilse stroked one of Wendla’s curls and smiled up at her. 

“You’re beautiful. I love you.”

Wendla smiled, hands caressing Ilse’s soft midriff skin. “You’re beautiful too and I love you too.” Her fingers slid up and spread around Ilse’s breasts. “You’re amazing.” She kissed her forehead. “Talented.” She kissed her nose. “Cute.” Her cheeks. “Sexy.” The top of her breast. “Mine.” Wendla pulled Ilse into a deep kiss, lips and tongues moving fast, each coating the other in saliva. Ilse pulled Wendla closer, their bodies coming almost completely into contact. Ilse rolled her hips up into Wendla’s as Wendla squeezed Ilse’s breasts, slowly massaging them together. Wendla leaned back, watching Ilse’s face as the the other girl groaned in delight. She admired her girlfriend for a few moments before a look of confusion spread across her face from her eyebrows to her mouth. Ilse peered up at her.

“What’s wrong?” Ilse stroked her arm, soothing and encouraging.

“I don’t know what to do next,” Wendla admitted, face turning pink as she looked at her feet.

“I can be on top if that would be better for you,” Ilse suggested, and Wendla nodded, gently flipping them over. “You have to tell me whether or not you like things. We’ve never done this, so I’m as lost as you, okay? You have to say, ‘I like that,’ or, ‘Don’t do that,’ okay?”

“What about, ‘Fuck, Ilse, yes!’? Is that acceptable?” Wendla smirked up at Ilse.

“Absolutely.” Ilse rolled their hips together slowly, hands teasing gently from Wendla’s cheeks to the band of her underwear, then up from her knees to the inside of her thighs. She grinned at Wendla, who smiled dazedly back. “What do you want babe?”

“I don’t know… just….” Unable to complete her sentence, Wendla rolled her hips up into Ilse’s, incapable of phrasing her desires.

Ilse smiled and leaned forward, capturing Wendla in a sweet kiss before she whispered, “Don’t worry. I’m going to make it good for you babe.” She trailed her mouth down Wendla’s neck and across her chest. Ilse kissed Wendla’s nipple lightly before sucking it into her mouth. Wendla let out a breathy exhale, hands on Ilse’s shoulders clenching slightly. Ilse bit and kissed and sucked at Wendla’s chest, her hands wrapping around her girlfriend’s breasts and massaging them gently as her mouth continued its descent. “You’re so sexy Wendla. All of you. You’re so gorgeous.” She moved Wendla’s legs slightly so she was resting between them, grinding gently into the mattress as she left purple marks across Wendla’s torso. Wendla’s breathing was speeding up, every mark causing her to take a sharp gasp. Ilse’s hands tugged at Wendla’s skin as she pulled them downwards. 

When Ilse hooked her thumbs in Wendla’s underwear, Wendla made a loud noise that sounded halfway between a groan and a gasp. Ilse looked up, her head level with her girlfriend’s navel. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…. Yes, I’m alright. I’m ready if you want to do anything else.”

Ilse smiled wickedly and pulled down Wendla’s underwear, sliding them gently off her legs. “Get ready babe. I’m going to make you feel great.” She gently massaged the newly exposed area before using one finger to search for Wendla’s clitoris. Wendla moaned the loudest Ilse had ever heard her, and Ilse knew she had found her mark. She rubbed her pointer finger solidly on the spot and Wendla’s head tipped back, moans spilling freely out of her mouth now. “You like that Wendla?”

“Uh-huh,” Wendla exhaled. Smirking, Ilse bent forward, her nose brushing gently through Wendla’s dark pubic curls before her tongue took the place of her finger, twirling Wendla’s clitoris lightly with her tongue. After hearing Wendla’s renewed moans, Ilse slipped the tip of her tongue into Wendla gently. “Fuck Ilse.”

“Good fuck or bad fuck?” Ilse said, the vibrations running through Wendla’s hips.

“Good,” Wendla breathed. Ilse curled her tongue towards Wendla’s stomach, rubbing her clitoris with her hand at the same time. Wendla moaned loudly, breathing fast and skin flushed. “Fuck, fuck, Ilse!” she almost screamed, hips lifting off the mattress. Wendla’s heart was racing and she felt something building inside of her, like she was climbing a mountain and would soon crest over it. Ilse twisted her tongue and pressed hard with her fingers at the same time and Wendla moaned loudly as her orgasm rocked through every muscle in her body. Ilse sat up and smiled at her girlfriend.

“Good?”

Wendla looked at Ilse like she was crazy. “Amazing, smartass.” Ilse laid down on the mattress next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and Wendla looked up at her. “Now what can I do for you?”

“You don’t––”

“Don’t be silly. Here.” Wendla climbed on top of Ilse, pulling her girlfriend’s underwear down and clumsily massaging her clitoris. “Sorry I’m not good at this.”

“Now you’re being silly. I love you and I will enjoy this no matter how ‘good’ you are at it.”

Wendla’s hand movement was jerky and light as she asked, “Well how can I be better?”

Ilse was quiet before she asked, “Do you masturbate Wendla?”

She turned red as she shook her head. “I never…. I was always… I just don’t.”

Ilse nodded. “Okay, here. Let me help.” Ilse placed her own hand over Wendla’s and guided her until she figured out the rhythm and Ilse released her to lean back on the mattress, head tilted upwards. 

“You’re so gorgeous Ils. I love seeing you like this, all flushed and laid out for me. All mine. My beautiful girl, desperate for my touch. God, it’s so hot.” Ilse groaned at Wendla’s words, pleasure sweeping over her slowly until her orgasm crashed like a wave. She kissed her girlfriend gently before Wendla rolled off of her. 

“Sorry,” Wendla whispered.

“For what?”

“That stuff I said. It was…”

“It was hot. I liked it.” Ilse smiled at her and Wendla pulled the sheets up over herself. “What are you doing?”

“Just getting under the sheets,” Wendla said, not making eye contact with her girlfriend.

“But why?” Ilse turned onto her side and rubbed her hand on Wendla’s side, obscured by the white hotel sheets.

“It’s comfy.” At Ilse’s pointed staring, Wendla said, “I don’t like being naked.” 

“Why not?”

“I never feel pretty.”

Ilse stared at her girlfriend. “You can’t be serious.” When Wendla didn’t reply she said, “Darling, you’re so sexy I can’t believe it most of the time.”

Wendla shook her head. “Not me, you. You’re all skinny and toned and perfect.” She refused to make eye contact with Ilse, who still was in a state of total disbelief.

“Skinny is overrated. You have an amazing body, and I love all of it.” Gently, she pulled the sheet off Wendla and dragged her fingers over Wendla’s skin. “Your beautiful face, your neck, your arms, your amazing boobs,” –both girls gasped as Ilse cupped Wendla’s breasts– “your waist, your hips, your thighs, your ass.” Wendla gasped again as Ilse grabbed her butt gently. “It’s all beautiful, it’s all you, and you’re all beautiful.”

“I feel big,” Wendla whispered.

“Sometimes, bigger  _ is _ better.” Ilse smiled and both girls dissolved into a fit of laughter.

 

A few hours later, after a quick lunch with Mrs. Gabor, Melchior and Moritz returned to Melchior’s basement room. Melchior reached the foot of his bed first and said softly, “Hey. Come here.”

Moritz walked slowly and shyly over to him and stood a few inches away. “What?”

Melchior laced his left hand with Moritz’s right and used the other to pull him in. Their lips met gently and sweetly. Moritz smiled as much as he could while kissing Melchior as he pulled his hand free, burying it instead in Melchior’s curly brown hair. Melchior ran his fingers lightly up Moritz’s sides, delighting at the shivers that ran through the smaller boy. He pushed back gently and Moritz fell onto his bed.

“Wait,” Moritz said as Melchior moved to lean over him.

“What?” Melchior asked carefully.  _ Are you scared? Are you okay? What’s wrong? How can I help? _

“This doesn’t feel right.”  _ Do you love me? Am I just your cute fuck buddy? I guess I could be okay with that like you’re incredibly hot and a great fuck but you constantly call me your boyfriend but you don’t love me…. _

“How?”  _ What am I doing wrong? _ “Do you want to stop?” Moritz shook his head. “Do you–I don’t know… do you want to try being on top?” Again Moritz shook his head.

“Never mind.”  _ It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. _

“Are you sure?”  _ Just please tell me what’s wrong I don’t know and I can’t help unless you tell me Moritz… _ “We don’t have to…”

Moritz shook his head. “We didn’t do anything last night and I want to make it up to you now.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Positive?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.” Melchior leaned forward, lips pressing into the crook where Moritz’s neck met his shoulder, hands teasing the bottom of Moritz’s shirt. Moritz ran his fingers down Melchior’s back, grabbing the bottom of Melchior’s shirt. This, at least, Moritz understood. He knew how to be really good at this. How to make Melchior happy. If this was all he had left, he was going to use it up. He yanked Melchior’s shirt over his head.

“You’re quiet today,” Melchior said, slowly lifting Moritz’s shirt and pressing his hands to his boyfriend’s bare muscles.

“Well,” Moritz said, his voice temporarily muffled by his shirt coming over his head. “Not everyone is as loud and verbose as you are during sex.”

“Oh, big words. But fair,” Melchior responded, lips moving down to Moritz’s sternum. “But not everyone has sex that is as great as the sex we have.”

“You’re the only one of the two of us with any frame of reference.”

Melchior snorted. “Ilse is a pretty hot frame of reference.”

Moritz sat up, shot him a look, and smacked the back of Melchior’s head before laying back down. “I don’t really remember it to be honest,” he said, fingers running through his own hair, “I was pretty plastered.”

“You both were drunk, she offered, you were sad or whatever and said yes, she sucked you off. It’s not a hard story.” Melchior chuckled. “I mean, at the beginning it would’ve been a hard story–”

“Shut up Melchi! I didn’t mean that any way. I meant you’re… I… I’ve never had anyone else’s dick in my ass.”

“Such romantic, eloquent phrasing,” Melchior teased. “If it makes you feel better, yours is far and away the best ass my dick has ever been in.”

“You’re just saying that,” Moritz blushed profusely, even as the compliment sent blood rushing to his groin.

“Shhhh….” Melchior knew how to do this. Maybe he didn’t understand how Moritz’s brain worked but he knew just how to make him flush and squirm and gasp. He dragged his tongue over Moritz’s chest, gently tracing the outline of his nipple. Melchior grinned at the small moan that escaped Moritz’s mouth. He sucked Moritz’s nipple into his mouth, rolling it gently between his lips.

“Melchi…” Moritz groaned quietly. In response Melchior crawled back up and pushed his mouth against Moritz’s. “Melchi…”

“What do you need?” Melchior sounded slightly exasperated.

“You’re so slow,” Moritz whispered teasingly before he pushed his tongue into Melchior’s mouth, nails scraping down his boyfriend’s back as he pulled Melchior’s hips into his. Both both groaned as their covered erections pressed against each other.

“You want fast?” Melchior pulled at Moritz’s belt and undid his pants, rubbing a hand on the seam of his boyfriend’s boxers. “I can do fast.”

“Then by all means, please do,” Moritz said, pushing his jeans off his hips and grabbing at the waistband of Melchior’s. Melchior pulled his own jeans off before wiggling Moritz’s over his feet, leaving the boys in only their boxers. Melchior leaned back into Moritz, their mouths colliding and hands roving over bodies. Moritz stretched an arm out towards the nightstand and grabbed a condom and a bottle of lube that he shoved into Melchior’s chest. Melchior nodded, pleasantly surprised at Moritz’s enthusiasm, before he pulled down Moritz’s boxers and coated two fingers with lube. Gently and slowly, he pressed a finger into Moritz, listening carefully to his boyfriend’s breathing. Carefully, Melchior pulled back out, then pressed both fingers in. “Fuck Melchior,” Moritz breathed as Melchior scissored his fingers, “Let’s go.”

“You’re ready?” asked Melchior. Moritz nodded rapidly and Melchior pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the bedspread before he pulled his own boxers off. He groaned into a small exhale as he unwrapped a condom and pulled it over himself. Melchior coated his length with lube and pushed into Moritz. He waited, every muscle in his body taut as he held back his desire to thrust forward, for Moritz’s signal. Moritz, eyes closed and mouth open slightly, squeezed Melchior’s shoulders, fingernails pushing in lightly. Melchior immediately began moving, hips rocking so quickly that the bed frame shook. Moritz clawed at Melchior’s back as his prostate was brushed gently. He wrapped his legs around Melchior’s waist, pushing him in farther. “Fuck Moritz, you’re so fucking beautiful, oh my God.” The words spilled out of Melchior's mouth as he wrapped one of his hands around Moritz’s erection, hand moving roughly in time with his hips.

“Melchi, I–––––” Moritz was silenced by Melchior’s lips on his own as he came on both of their stomachs.

“Fuck Moritz,” Melchior said, slamming into Moritz two more times before he finished with a choked exhale.

Melchior pulled out of Moritz and walked to his bathroom, throwing out the condom and grabbing a washcloth. He wiped Moritz’s stomach and collapsed onto the bed. “Wow.”

“Wow what?”

“Wow this is amazing every time and I can’t believe we ever manage to get anything else done.” Melchior stretched his arms behind his head and yawned. “Nap time?”

“W-won’t your mom know what we just did if she comes in?” Moritz shuddered at the thought.

“Moritz,” Melchior said soothingly, stroking his boyfriend’s arm as he spoke, “We told my mom we’re dating, which she already knew, and I’m pretty sure, despite what a lot of very conservative people like to pretend, that all parents know high school relationships usually mean some kind of sex.”

“But she’s home...wouldn’t she...I mean if I knew people were having sex while I was home…” There was a weight settling in the bottom of Moritz’s stomach and he felt like he was going to throw up. Sex with Melchior was always great, and today hadn’t been an exception. He had  _ asked _ Melchior to keep going, he had  _ encouraged _ Melchior to go faster, he had  _ wanted _ Melchior to fuck him senseless, but his senses had returned to him as soon as Melchior had wiped his stomach, and now he felt uncomfortable in his skin and his brain and he wanted to scream until he lost his voice. Moritz needed to talk to Melchior and he didn’t have the words.

“Don’t think about that,” Melchior whispered, “Think about how much you would love to curl up under my sheets with me and fall asleep in my arms.”

Moritz looked into his boyfriend’s blue eyes. Blue like the sky, blue like the ocean, blue like so many vast, unconquerable places. He smiled a slightly dopey smile and nodded. With a grin Melchior pulled the covers over both of them. He stared at Moritz and traced one finger lightly over the smaller boy’s collarbone. 

“You’re so beautiful Moritz.”

Moritz closed his eyes, trying to allow the feeling of Melchior’s hands on his body to consume his entirety so no other sensations or thoughts were left. Try as he might, he kept replaying the short conversation in his head.  _ I can’t believe we ever manage to get anything else done. _

His eyes flew open and he looked at Melchior. “Why don’t we ever do anything else?”

“How do you mean?” asked Melchior.

“I mean all we do anymore is have sex.”

Melchior cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you didn’t want to have sex.”

“That’s not what I said. That’s not what I meant. I-I-”

“What do you mean Moritz?” Melchior asked sincerely, eyes wide and focusing on Moritz.

“I mean we used to do other things too. Go to museums, have movie marathons, see baseball games… Things. Dates.”

“We can do stuff like that again,” said Melchior. He didn't say, “You're just saying that because of Hänschen and Ernst’s epic date,” even though he thought it might be the truth. 

“But why'd we stop doing things like that? Did you only do them to string me along and then when we started fucking it didn't matter anymore? Did you stop loving me?” Moritz sat up, eyebrows furrowed. When Melchior fidgeted slightly, Moritz said, “I love you Melchior. Do you–do you love me?” 

The silence following Moritz’s question stretched out slightly too long. Melchior reached out to touch his arm but Moritz pulled away like he'd been burned. “Never mind I–” He didn't finish his sentence as he scrambled away from Melchior and off of his bed. He didn't turn around as he pulled on his boxers and jeans, he didn't look at Melchior when he found his shirt, he didn't smile a silent goodbye at his boyfriend as he climbed the stairs out of his room.

“Moritz?” He didn't turn around. “Moritz, wait!” Melchior was sitting up in his bed, staring at Moritz as if trying to will him next to Melchior again. “You can't go anywhere. The roads are still closed.”

Moritz went back down the steps and picked up his backpack. “Then I'll just study in the dining room.”

“Study with me,” Melchior pleaded, rubbing the spot next to him on the mattress. 

Moritz swallowed as tears started to well in his eyes. “I think I'd do better in the dining room,” he said coldly. He turned to the stairs. 

“Moritz?” Melchior called so softly Moritz almost thought he'd imagined it. “What does this mean?”

Moritz swallowed, vision blurred by tears. “This means I'm going to go to the dining room because you don't love me back and I can't deal with that right now but I'm pathetic and I love you so I'll probably be back because you're a good lay and I'll probably love you forever but right now I need you to leave me alone.” Tears raced down his cheeks and he climbed the steps out of Melchior's room. 

_ Fuck _ , Melchior thought,  _ fuck fuck I'm a fucking idiot and an asshole holy shit _ .

 

Ernst had only been ice skating once before in his life. The whole grade had gone on a bunch of trips into the city in eighth grade to celebrate the end of elementary school, including a mid-January trip to the ice skating rink. Ernst had clung to the wall then, only drifting out onto the ice when Hänschen (who went ice skating with his sister at least once a week in the winter) slowed down enough to tease him lovingly about clinging onto the wall. He cursed Hänschen silently for picking something he wasn’t good at for their first date as he laced into his rented skates. He stood up, wobbling slightly.

“Come on Ernst.” Hänschen grabbed one of his hands and pulled him gently towards the ice. Ernst gripped the wall like his life depended on it as soon as he could. “Ernst.” He turned around, and Hänschen was standing there, a gloved hand extended towards him. “Come with me.” Ernst hesitated for a second. He was going to fall on his ass and hurt himself and look like a fool in front of his beautiful, talented best friend/boyfriend and everyone would laugh. But the look in Hänschen’s eyes was so soft and Ernst figured he needed to let go of the wall eventually. Why not now?

He grabbed Hänschen’s hand and Hänschen pulled him in, wrapping an arm around Ernst’s waist. “I’m so terrified,” Ernst whispered, half-laughing.

“I’m not that scary.”

“Not of you stupid. Although you can be pretty scary. I’m not good at ice skating. Also, everyone is staring at us.”

Hänschen shrugged and smirked. “Then let’s give them something to stare at.” He leaned forwards, pushing Ernst’s head up slightly as their mouths met gently. Ernst giggled in the back of his throat and Hänschen pulled away. “What’s so funny?”

Ernst shook his head, smiling. “You’re just so… sweet.”

Hänschen raised an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so surprised. I can do sweet. Now come on. If we stand here any longer people are going to start shouting at us.” He dragged Ernst onto the center of the ice, leading him gently with his hand.

All in all, Ernst only really fell once, and that was because he decided he should race Hänschen, which had not been a good idea at all. Hänschen had skated back to him and laughingly offered a hand. “Are you okay?”

“Stop laughing and help me up asshole.” He stood up with Hänschen’s help and clung to the wall. “I’m getting tired.”

“Okay. We can leave. But first,” and Hänschen pulled Ernst into a deep kiss again. Smiling broadly, Ernst tugged his boyfriend off the ice. While they were untying their skates, Hänschen said, “I have somewhere I want to take you.”

“Where?”

“Just give your skates back and I’ll show you.”

Ernst followed Hänschen down the cold sidewalk, gloved hands clasped together. It was nice, although neither boy would voice it, to be away from their small town and be able to hold hands without anyone watching them, threatening to tell Hänschen’s father, Mr. Rilow’s presence looming over the town like a giant cloud. They were just another couple in a sea of human beings. Hänschen thought that maybe anonymity doesn’t get enough credit for being as freeing as it is.

They walked for a few blocks, not talking, simply enjoying the presence of another person. Hänschen was leading and Ernst trailed about a half step behind. Hänschen stopped suddenly, opening a door in a ridiculous show of chivalry. Ernst walked into the store and gasped.

Every town had bookstores, but Ernst had never been in one like this. Two quiet floors of dark mahogany shelves filled with books of all kinds. The air smelled like knowledge and unopened books. Ernst might not have been as smart as Hänschen or Melchior but he loved to read just as much. Gaping around at the room he felt Hänschen wrap his arms around his waist and heard him whisper, “Do you like it?”

“It’s incredible Hänsi.”

“I think of you whenever I’m here. It’s quiet and beautiful and full of so many things to experience, so many secrets to learn.” He kissed Ernst’s jaw. “Like you.”

Ernst turned bright red. “You’re always full of surprises aren’t you?”

“I try my best.” They stood still before Hänschen whispered, “Well? Go find some books I can buy for you silly.” Ernst looked shocked at Hänschen’s words, and Hänschen smiled. “Like you said, full of surprises.” He pushed his boyfriend off to explore the books, and when Ernst turned around to look at him again, he waved him towards the stacks and watched his boyfriend peruse the shelves avidly.

 

After the girls took showers (separately, to Ilse’s mild chagrin) they watched TV aimlessly, channel surfing whenever a commercial started. Eventually it was one thirty and Ilse said, “We didn’t have breakfast at all. We should probably have lunch somewhere.”

“Room service?” Wendla asked mischievously. “We could eat off each other.”

Ilse looked at her. “Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend Wendla Bergmann? Mild mannered girl, brown long curly hair, sexy as hell but also modest to the point of ridiculousness.” Wendla laughed. “No, I was thinking we could put on our nice dresses and go to the hotel restaurant.”

“Can we?”

“My mom gave me like a hundred dollars to spend on merch at the concert but we can’t go there, so?”

“So fancy lunch in the hotel? Absolutely babe!” Wendla kissed Ilse quickly and stood up, spinning around the room and running to her suitcase. She pulled out a dress Ilse had helped her pick out and Ilse’s breath caught in her throat as she remembered what Wendla had looked like trying that dress on. It was a dark blue dress, knee length, tight on top, wide straps, and most of the back was cut out. It looked perfect on Wendla, and Ilse couldn’t imagine ever being able to form more than two cohesive thoughts a time if Wendla wore that dress around her. Not that she would mind. It was always nice to take a break from constantly thinking and creating and imagining.

Wendla pulled a pair of shoes out of her bag and skipped off to the bathroom. Ilse went over to her suitcase and pulled out the mint green dress she and Wendla had picked out on the same trip that had brought about the navy blue dress. It didn’t look nearly as good on her as Wendla’s did, but she loved it. It was flowy and lacy and very light feeling. Both girls had bought impractically matching shoes, so Ilse’s were flats the exact same shade as her dress with a tiny little bow on the toes. 

Ilse turned around when the door to the bathroom opened and almost dropped the small purse she was holding. Wendla was more gorgeous in the dress than Ilse had remembered. Her blue suede platform stilettos made her the same height as Ilse instead of her usual four inches shorter. Her hair was neater and less frizzy than usual, her eyeshadow made her eyes pop, and the blue fabric hugged Wendla’s curves in all the right places. Ilse had no probably admitting her girlfriend looked sexy in just about anything (including just in bed sheets, as she had learned earlier that day), but Wendla could have set fires with how hot she looked right now.

“You should close your mouth darling,” Wendla said, walking towards Ilse and closing her jaw with a gentle finger before pressing a kiss to her lips. She smirked and said, “You'll catch flies.”

“You used to be so shy. Like, three hours ago.”

“I guess you make me so happy I forget to be scared of everything.”

“That’s pretty gay Wendla.”

“You’re a pretty gay.” Wendla leaned forward again and kissed Ilse. “Now come on! It’s time to go eat.” Wendla dragged Ilse out of the room and down the hall to the elevator.

Ilse’s prediction had come true, and she was almost incapable of carrying a conversation throughout dinner, but luckily for her, Wendla had found Ilse’s mild incapacitation adorable instead of annoying. When they got back up to the hotel room, Ilse buried her face in Wendla’s neck. “You look so gorgeous,” she whispered into her girlfriend’s skin. “I can’t believe I survived that lunch.”

Wendla turned scarlet. “You’re just saying that because of the dress.”

Ilse pressed her hands to Wendla’s waist and ran her palms up and down her girlfriend’s sides. “I am definitely doing no such thing. I’m saying it because it’s true.” She left no room for argument as she pushed her mouth onto Wendla’s. A few moments later, she pulled back abruptly and walked across the room. “We need to find something to do or I’m just going to want to fuck you again.”

“Wanna go swimming?”

“Sure.”

Ilse changed into her swimsuit, her heart rate gradually slowing, while Wendla changed in the bathroom. Wendla called her name so faintly Ilse thought she imagined it before she heard it again.

“What do you need Wendla?” 

The bathroom door opened a crack and Wendla said, “My swimsuit doesn’t fit.”

“Shit. Okay. What do we do?”

“I don't know! I'm asking you!” Ilse heard Wendla start to hyperventilate and scrambled for a plan. 

“I think I saw a boutique in the lobby! We can buy you a swimsuit.” Ilse listened to Wendla take a deep breath and then heard her stand up and felt the door shut. 

“Okay. Let me get back in my clothes.”

They walked down the hall to the elevator and took it down to the lobby. It wasn't until they were the in the boutique that Ilse broke the silence. “So how come you didn't know your swimsuit didn't fit anymore?”

“I haven't gone swimming since the summer and that was before, you know,” Wendla gestured vaguely towards her chest and Ilse nodded. “And it totally didn't occur to me when you said to pack a swimsuit. Sorry.”

“There's nothing to be sorry about,” Ilse smiled and said soothingly. “It's not your fault. And now we get to buy you a cute new swimsuit.”

Wendla perused the racks, a frown growing deeper and deeper as she did. 

“What's wrong?”

“They're all two pieces.”

“So?”

“I've never owned a two piece.” At Ilse’s look of shock, Wendla said, “You know what my mother’s like! If she had her way all the time I’d dress like a nun.”

“Okay so we can buy you a two piece and explain the circumstances.”

“She'll say something like, ‘You didn't have to go swimming,’ or, ‘Modesty is more important that fun.’”

Ilse shoved two swimsuits into Wendla’s arms and said, “Then blame me, your bad-influence girlfriend.” She turned Wendla around and pushed her gently into a changing room, shaking her head and wondering how she ended up with such a well behaved girlfriend. 

Wendla came out of the changing room a few minutes later, a black bikini draped across her arms. “I’m getting this one.” She walked to the register and paid for it, Ilse following close behind. Wendla led the way back up to their room and both girls got changed again, Wendla in the bathroom and Ilse in the bedroom.

The door to the bathroom creaked open and Wendla stepped out gently. “Do you like it?”

Ilse looked up and it took all of the strength she had not to let her jaw drop. “You’re a knockout babe.”

“Really?”

Ilse crossed the room in two steps and pinned Wendla to the wall with a kiss. “Really. Now,” she handed Wendla a towel, “let’s go swimming.”

 

Thea rang Martha’s doorbell, hoping three o’clock wasn’t too early to show up for a sleepover. Martha opened the door and lit up when she saw Thea. She pulled her into a hug but released her quickly. “You smell like weed.”

Thea shrugged and, looking at the ground, asked, “Does it bother you?”

Martha ushered her in and closed the door behind her girlfriend before she said, “It only bothers me that you smoked without me and then showed up here smelling like weed.”

Thea raised an eyebrow, “You smoke?”

“No, but I know you were smoking by yourself because Otto and Georg are playing videogames and/or fucking, Hänschen is out of town, and Melchior and Moritz are snowed in. Hang on,” Martha said, realizing something, “Did you walk here during a road closure after smoking outside in the snow?” Thea looked at the ground. “Oh my god Thea, don’t ever do that again!” Martha stepped closed to Thea and pulled her head up. “I could never forgive myself if something bad happened to you.” She pushed a kiss onto Thea’s lips before she pulled back and said, “You taste like weed too.” Thea grinned sheepishly.

“Come upstairs,” Martha said, and Thea obediently followed. She’d only been to Martha’s house once, for Martha’s thirteenth birthday. Martha had had everyone over and the house had been draped in purple and blue decorations. Her mom had made a cake and everyone had played Twister, back when no one was dating and the only one of them with any kind of experience was Hänschen. They had all laughed together and Martha had smiled all day and her mom had been so nice to everyone. As awful as she knew it was, Thea spent a long part of that day being jealous. It hadn’t seemed fair that everyone else was so happy all the time and she was miserable. Sometimes she even thought Hänschen was happier than she was. All of them had friends and she was just Hänsi’s sour little sister. It hadn’t seemed fair that Martha got to have one amazing parent and Thea had two that sucked. Thea had wished that she could move in with Martha, just to have her mother take care of her. All these thoughts came back to her as she climbed the stairs to the bedroom of an amazing girl who was now her girlfriend and not just one of her brother’s friends. And if she still felt a twinge of jealousy at how happy Martha was, if she still wanted to run away from home and have Mrs. Bessell take care of her (with maybe one ulterior motive in living with Martha), that was just her business.

Thea gasped as she walked into Martha’s room. “What?” Martha asked.

“It’s… it’s exactly how I’d decorate my room.” The pinewood floor was bare, the walls were splatter painted, there weren’t bookcases so much as several shelves mounted in an arc around the head of Martha’s bed, and there were few actual decorations other than photos and ticket stubs Martha had taped over the walls.

“Why, what does your bedroom look like?” Martha asked, sitting down on her bed and motioning for Thea to join her.

“Well,” Thea began, slipping off her shoes and sitting on the bed too, “imagine the room of a four year old who loves unicorns. Now make it more 70s.” She flopped backwards so she was lying down, staring at the ceiling.

Martha giggled. “That’s what your room looks like?”

“Courtesy of Mr. Rilow himself. He let me decorate it when I was six and then hasn’t let me change anything since,” Thea said bitterly. 

Martha looked down at Thea and stroked her short hair. “You really hate him don’t you?”

Thea teared up a little, “He’s just the worst. He told me and Hänschen that we have to pretend to be straight which, like, I don’t even know what he’s thinking. Especially with the tailspins Hänschen can get into sometimes. He basically told Hänschen that he’d rather Hänsi sleep around with a bunch of random girls than ever go near any boy and it sucks because Ernst is great and Hänschen really likes him and you’re great and I really like you and I hoped we could have these big family dinners, my parents and Ernst and Hänschen and you and me, and we just can’t.”

Martha smiled sadly and wiped a tear off Thea’s cheek. “There’s a small silver lining though. You and Hänschen used to hate being around each other. Now you’re becoming friends.”

“We didn’t hate each other,” Thea rolled her eyes, and Martha laughed a little at how Thea could go from being mopey to sarcastic in a heartbeat, but stopped when she realized it was just a defense mechanism, “We just had a good-natured sibling rivalry. And now we’re just good-natured siblings, helping each other out. For example, I helped Hänschen sneak out to see Ernst and Hänschen lent me the joint I smoked before I came over.”

“You used to be so impossible,” Martha said after thinking for a moment. “You never let anyone see you be anything except sarcastic and angry, just like your brother. Except his coping mechanism was sleeping with half the school. What was yours?”

Thea shrugged. “I don’t know, dumb shit like cutting my hair and playing with matches.” At Martha’s unconvinced look, Thea sighed. “Okay so I started smoking way early. Like when Hänschen started fucking people, when Wendla and Melchior were dating, when you were still not out early. I didn’t smoke that often though. But I uh… I used to… I used to burn myself.”

“Thea...”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Martha nodded and laid down next to her girlfriend. “You didn’t bring any clothes.”

Thea shrugged. “I can just borrow yours.” Martha opened her mouth to speak, but Thea pulled her into a cuddle. “Hush now. Just cuddle with me.” Martha smiled and obliged. Thea tried to just bask in the warmth of her girlfriend’s affection, but she had to say something before she forgot.

“I’m sorry I look at Ilse and Wendla lot,” Thea said under her breath.

Not turning around, Martha said, “Why do you always look away from them like you're guilty of something?”

“I feel like I'm doing something wrong. Like we should be that happy.”

Martha turned her head to look at Thea. “Thea, I am that happy. We just don't need to tell everybody, right?”

Thea pressed a kiss into the back of Martha’s head. “Right, you’re right.” She smiled into Martha’s neck. “You’re always right.”

 

In trying to figure out what he was going to say, Melchior replayed his entire relationship and friendship with Moritz in his head. It took him a good two hours to figure out, but at last, he knew what to do. He walked silently up to where Moritz sat at the dining room table, still plugging away at his math homework. Melchior stood there silently for a second, imagining the seemingly far off days of university, when he and Moritz could live together, studying and going to campus parties and banging each other until four in the morning. He shook his head and said, “Please just listen to me.” Moritz stopped moving, so Melchior continued. “Do you remember the first time we slept together?” Moritz nodded slightly. “When we were laying in bed after, catching our breath, I looked over and you were crying. I asked why and you said, ‘I’ve been waiting for this for so long.’ You have liked me since we have been capable of liking people, and I spent the better part of ten years being completely oblivious. Looking back, it makes sense that you came out to me first, that you made out with Ernst when I started dating Wendla, that you got that smashed and let Ilse blow you after I fucked Hänschen. You know, hindsight is twenty-twenty.” He cleared his throat. “People always tell me how smart I am, that I’m blessed with my intelligence. But I’ve never been particularly good with emotions. I can’t tell when people like me and when I hurt people I usually don’t know what I did wrong. Maybe it’s a smart boy thing,” (Moritz laughed under his breath, thinking how funny it really was that Melchior and Hänschen could probably solve world hunger, but couldn’t figure out their love lives), “But I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. You just surprised me. I always thought I’d have to say it first, so I wasn’t sure how to respond. Of course, now that seems stupid. I should have just told you the truth and the truth is I love you.”

“Prove it.”

Melchior got down on his knees and put a hand on the edge of Moritz’s leg. “If I could marry you right now, and be married to you for the rest of my life, I would, definitely, one hundred percent. I’m all in Moritz.”

Moritz finally turned around, face covered in tear tracks and nose dripping. “You hurt me really badly Melchi. And you can’t do it again. There’s a whole world of people who want to hurt me. I don’t need you helping them out.”

Melchior nodded. “Can I kiss you?”

Moritz, instead of answering, leaned down into Melchior. Their lips met in a gentle, sweet kiss.

“So,” Melchior said, “Let’s plan some dates.”

“Really?”

“I mean, we can’t just have sex all the time, can we?”

Moritz smiled. “I mean we could, but then nothing would have changed and I’d go back to wondering if maybe you were just keeping me around to fuck all the time.”

Melchior’s face fell. “I’m really sorry Moritz. It’s awful that I made you think that. I love you more than anyone else I’ve ever met.”

“More than Hänschen?”

“Hänschen may be hot, but he’s not exactly loveable.”

“More than Wendla?”

“ _ Yes _ Moritz. More than anyone, ever. I remember I was so terrified when I asked you out because you still weren’t actually out and I was afraid you’d think it was just because Wendla was with Ilse and I was jealous and I’d just fucked Hänschen and you knew and I thought, ‘God why would someone like Moritz ever want someone like me?’ and I was one hundred percent positive you were going to say no and–”

Moritz cut him off with a kiss. Melchior smiled and Moritz blushed, still so easily turning red after all this time. “You were rambling and it’s hard to stop you when you start rambling.”

Melchior moved to the chair next to Moritz’s at the table. “So date ideas?”

“Well I love going to museums with you because you always try to show that you know more than the placards and it’s dumb but it’s cute and endearing. And I like when we do things like, I don’t know, ice skating or rollerblading or going on a hike or something.”

“So just like, doing something together that isn’t each other?”

Moritz nodded. “Exactly. Although, you know,” Moritz blushed scarlet and Melchior rubbed his boyfriend’s back, trying to comfort him through what he was saying, “I still do like being your fuckbuddy.”

“Moritz, you are so much more than that. I love you. You’re not just some hot guy I know. You’re so many kinds of amazing.” Melchior pressed a quick kiss to Moritz’s lips. 

“Thank you Melchior.”

There was a comfortable silence before Melchior said, “I’m sorry about, you know, before. Like… I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I’m sorry if I pressured you. I never want you to feel like you have to.”

“I didn’t Melchi. I mean, I wanted to. I love sleeping with you. Thank you for apologizing but it’s unnecessary. I love you and everything we do together is amazing.” He thought for a second before he said, “Except fighting. Let’s not do that again.”

Melchior smiled. “I’ll try. Want to watch a movie? We can stay up here on the couch or go downstairs and sit on my bed.”

“Sure. Let’s go downstairs.”

“You sure Mo?”

Moritz nodded. “You mom walking in on us even cuddling would be too embarrassing for me. So let’s go downstairs and snuggle and watch a movie we’ve seen a million times.”

“ _ The Princess Bride _ ?” Melchior asked, standing up and offering Moritz a hand.

Moritz smiled brighter than the sun. “Absolutely.”

 

Martha and Thea had made their way into Martha’s basement movie/game room and were cuddling on the couch half-watching reruns on TeenNick. Thea felt Martha shift a little and turned to face her to see Martha leaning in, one hand on the zipper of her sweater. 

“It’s a little hot, isn’t it?” Martha asked, slowly unzipping her sweater. Thea’s breath caught in her throat when she saw that Martha wasn’t wearing a shirt under the sweater, just a lacy red bra. 

“Uh…”

“Lost for words?” Martha threw off the jacket and leaned forward, shoulders first. When Thea nodded Martha said, “That’s a first.”

Thea leaned forward to kiss Martha, but was caught off guard when Martha moved quickly so she was straddling Thea’s lap.

“Not that I mind,” said Thea as Martha leaned towards her, “But where is all this coming from?”

Martha sat back. “Don’t...don’t you want this?”

“I wasn’t trying to imply that I didn’t–because I absolutely do–but it’s very…uncharacteristic of you.”

“Um...uh...well…” Martha started to zip up her sweater, “You know my parents are divorced.” Thea nodded. “But I’ve never really talked to anyone about why.” Thea put her hand on Martha’s knee as Martha moved off her lap. “My dad used to abuse me.”

“Holy–Martha–oh my God. I don’t know what to say other than I’m really sorry this happened to you.”

Martha nodded. “Thanks babe. There’s nothing to really say but like… everyone reacts differently to abuse right? So some kids they like totally shut down sexually right? But I kind of went the other way for a while. My mom and I had a huge fight in middle school–”

“Hang on. You mean, like,  _ sexual _ abuse?” There was a fire in Thea’s eyes that would’ve scared Martha if it wasn’t protecting her.

“Thea, please don’t get worked up about it. There’s nothing you can do about it now and I haven’t even seen my dad in about eight years. I just… I don’t want to talk about that part. I just want to talk about me. And about us.” Thea rubbed her arm gently and nodded. “So my mom and I had this huge fight in middle school about how I was dressing because she thought it was inappropriate and garnering the ‘wrong’ kind of attention and uh,” Martha looked just over Thea’s shoulder before she swallowed and continued, “Hänschen’s not the only one who slept around.”

Thea stared at her, more than a little shocked.

“Please don’t look at me like that Thea. It’s attention, you know? And because of my dad I thought that the only good kind of attention from boys was sexual attention and I couldn’t deal with being just friends with any guys because I felt like I was doing something wrong. I hate doing things wrong. I mean, not that you don’t know that.”

“I’m sorry Martha.”

“You didn’t do anything. Except, well, actually you helped me. If it wasn’t for beautiful, snarky you I might have never realized girls are as kissable and amazing as they are.” Martha pressed a quick kiss to Thea’s lips. 

“So… okay.” Thea took a deep breath. “I have a few questions, and they’re not all great.”

“I’m ready.”

“Do you actually enjoy having sex or do you do it as a coping mechanism?”

“At the time, both. When I realized it was a coping thing I stopped doing it because I knew that wasn’t a good way to think about it. So I tried to take a break. And then after a while I figured avoidance wasn’t the best way to cope but I also wasn’t ready to go back into the whole minefield of high school one-night stands. So… I mean… you know… I–”

“You did some self exploration?” Thea chucked and Martha smiled sheepishly. “Okay so that answers my second question. And my third awful question,” Thea took a deep breath. “You said you couldn’t deal with being just friends so that means you slept with our guy friends, right? But some of them are gay so… I don’t know I guess I just want to know who you slept with.”

Martha stared at the floor again. “Thea, I–” She cleared her throat and said, “Melchior and some other guys at school. You know, randoms. And uh… Hänschen.”

“How come I didn’t know that?”

“I made him promise not to tell anyone. You know, your brother can be really accommodating and kind when he’s in the mood. Now c’mon. I don’t want to talk about any of that. I want to focus on you and me.” She leaned in and kissed Thea. Thea moved to pull Martha onto her lap before she heard a door open.

“Martha? Where are you sweetie?”

“Down here Mom! Come down, you can meet Thea.” Martha turned to Thea and said, “You’re going to like my mom.”

“I mean, I really like you so I bet I’ll like your mom.”

Martha kissed her again before separating a little before her mom came down the stairs.

 

After an hour down in the pool, Ilse and Wendla went back up to their room, giggling and dripping wet. They changed into pajamas and Wendla tied her hair in a messy top bun. Ilse ran her hands along the dripping ends of her short hair while Wendla settled on the bed. Ilse got an idea and shook her head like a dog shaking out water. Wendla laughed when Ilse settled onto the bed next to her.

“You looked like a puppy.”

“Well puppies like to snuggle don’t they? And I love snuggling.” Ilse curled up, her head on Wendla’s stomach and her hands resting in her girlfriend’s lap. She tried not to notice Wendla shifting uncomfortably, but decided she couldn’t ignore it any longer. She sat up and looked Wendla in the eyes and said, “What’s wrong?”

Wendla sighed. “You’re going to be mad.”

Ilse rubbed her girlfriend’s arm. “I promise I won’t. Whatever’s making you feel bad I want to help.”

“I still feel like you’re prettier than me. Like you’re too hot for me.”

“Wendla,” Ilse sighed, “I know all this is complicated but I love you so much. You’re so beautiful inside and out and I love every part of you, okay?” Wendla nodded and Ilse smiled. “I know it’s hard for a lot of people to love themselves. If it’s hard for you, I need you to know I’m here for you, okay?”

Wendla smiled. “I know.” She pressed a short kiss onto Ilse’s lips. “You can curl back up again if you want to.” 

Ilse smiled and resumed her original position. Wendla stroked her hair, smiling. “I can’t believe this happened to us. I mean, think of everything we’ve been through. All the stuff we’re still going through. Your parents splitting, my mom being… you know, my mom, just dealing in general with being a teenager. Especially a gay teenager in a small town.”

“We got lucky. I can’t believe I found you. You’re everything I need and want. I love you Wendla.”

“I love you Ilse.”

“Movie?”

“Mmmhmm, sure. Nothing too thoughtful though. I just want to sit here and enjoy this moment with my girlfriend, a million miles away from everything I could possibly worry about.” Wendla picked up the TV remote and flipped through the on-demand selections. “Breakfast Club?”

Ilse smiled. “Sure.” Wendla started the movie and Ilse curled up just a little closer. 

  
  


Ernst tried really hard, but he couldn’t sleep. He kept turning over on his side of the bed, thinking about how to accurately put his discomfort into words, and how to make Hänschen understand. Finally, at 11:57 Ernst said, “Hänschen? I have to talk to you about something, and it’s not fun or sexy.”

Hänschen groaned and turned over to face Ernst. “That’s not a great sales pitch,” he laughed. Ernst could only sort of see in the dark, but he could tell that Hänschen was genuinely concerned when he said, “What is it?”

“This date–I mean, I know it was originally a trip for you and your sister but like…. This date was expensive.”

Hänschen shrugged as well as a person can shrug while lying down. “My dad paid for it. I’m not really sure…”

“It was expensive. We took a train, we went to a four star restaurant, we went to a museum gallery opening, you took me shopping… those things aren’t cheap Hänsi.” Hänschen nodded. Ernst cleared his throat and whispered, “I can’t afford to take you on dates like this.” He looked down at his hands, which were sitting on his rib cage and could not seem to sit comfortably until a third hand reached over and took hold of one of Ernst’s. Ernst looked back up at Hänschen.

“I know,” Hänschen said delicately, “And I don’t expect you to. We don’t have to do great big things like this all the time.”

Ernst sighed. “But when I’m paying for dates it’s going to be shitty little things like study dates or Disney movie marathons at my house or Pinkberry–” He was cut off by a kiss from Hänschen. When he pulled away Hänschen stroked Ernst’s cheek with his free hand.

“None of that sounds shitty. It all sounds perfect.” Ernst started to protest, but Hänschen cut him off. “Any date where we’re doing something together is a perfect date. All I want to do is spend time with you and make you feel as special as you are. This weekend was a little overboard. I’m sorry.”

Ernst smiled at the compliment and said, “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I just wanted to say… I guess… you don’t have to spend money on me Hänsi.”

Hänschen stared at Ernst and thought, chewing his tongue. Finally he said, “Growing up a Rilow meant that money was love and love was money. When my dad dropped me or Thea off for martial arts or dance or whatever he was paying for we always said, ‘Thanks Dad. I love you,’ as we got out of the car, something we didn’t say if he was taking us to school or away for the weekend. Presents weren’t just accompanied by the exciting ripping of paper and gushing of thanks, but also an overwhelming number of ‘I love you’s. I don’t ever remember a time when I said, ‘I love you,’ that wasn’t directly linked to a present or some other expenditure of money on me. Until you.” He smiled. “I will try my best not to spend exorbitant amounts of money on you, especially since you turn me into a hopeless romantic every time we have a conversation.” He turned back over. “Now go to sleep Ernst.”

Ernst smiled at his boyfriend’s back. “I love you Hänschen Rilow.”

“I know.” Both boys laughed at Hänschen’s snarky response. A few moments passed and Hänschen whispered back, “I love you Ernst Robel.”

He thought Ernst was asleep until he heard the soft, “I know,” come from the other side of the bed.


	3. Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! And substantially shorter than the other two because there's lots of traveling and a group chat. If you don't want to read m/m sex skip from "...stopping to suck on his neck" to "As fun as this is..."

Ernst was hard when he woke up. He was used to the many dreams about his incredibly hot best friend that had dogged him since they were twelve. What he wasn't used to was his  _ boyfriend _ ’s arms wrapped around him when he woke up. Ernst wiggled a little, thinking that if he could just get up and go to the bathroom he could deal with his problem, or at least calm down, but to no avail. Hänschen was stronger than he looked and Ernst couldn't move, so he decided to just lay there and wait for his boyfriend to wake up. 

Ernst thought he would be alright, just absorbing Hänschen’s warmth, until Hänschen's right hand, which had been sitting on Ernst's hip, trailed towards Ernst's front and Ernst began to panic. “Hänschen!” Ernst whisper shouted. “Hänschen!” He couldn't help but gasp and lean into his boyfriend's touch when Hänschen's hand came to rest on Ernst’s boner. “Hänschen, are you awake?”

For a second that lasted a year, nothing happened. And then all at once, Hänschen moved and Ernst was trapped under his boyfriend, who was pressing him into the mattress with a kiss. Hänschen rolled his hips and Ernst groaned at the feeling of Hänschen's erection rubbing against his. “Yes,” Hänschen said, smiling down at his shocked boyfriend. 

“You asshole!” Ernst said, trying not to smile or groan as Hänschen kept rolling his hips, “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was,” Hänschen said, smirking at how hard Ernst was biting his lip to try and control his mouth. “But then someone shouted my name twice. Any idea who that might've been?” Hänschen smirked and Ernst couldn't help but smile. 

“I didn't want you…I guess I didn't want you to...it felt creepy since you were asleep,” Ernst muttered, barely able to control his breathing with Hänschen's hip movements. 

Finally, Hänschen stopped moving and said, “Well now that I'm awake, do you want me to—”

“No, you don't have to. I'll just go to the bathroom and—”

“Ernst,” Hänschen said firmly, “I'm not going to let you just go jack off in the bathroom when it would be my pleasure to do something for you.”

Ernst blushed a little at Hänschen's language. “You don't have to.”

“Look at me Ernst.” Hänschen's green eyes looked hungry. “I want to.” Hänschen smiled, trying to convey the sincerity of his longing. Finally, Ernst stopped biting his lip and nodded, smiling. 

Hänschen was glad he didn't wear a shirt to bed because it meant he only had to whip off Ernst’s t-shirt before he felt the delicious sensation of Ernst’s warm skin pressed against his. He left a sloppy trail of kisses down and back up Ernst's torso, stopping to suck on his neck. 

When Hänschen's hand drifted back over Ernst's boner and one finger lightly started tracing his length through the thin boxers, Ernst thought he was going to die. “Hänschen,” he practically whispered, “Can you please not tease me? I'm already so on edge and I can't…”

Hänschen captured his boyfriend’s lips and said, “Sure. I'm sorry. And Ernst? Don't ever be afraid to ask.”

Hänschen pulled down his boyfriend’s boxers and immediately swallowed down Ernst’s whole length. The groan Ernst released was a mixture of pleasure and relief. Hänschen hummed a little and Ernst groaned louder. As Hänschen bobbed his head and swirled his tongue sinfully, Ernst tangled his fingers into the blonde’s hair. Hänschen scraped his teeth gently and Ernst almost shouted. Remembering what Hänschen had said, Ernst gasped, “Do that again please.” Smiling at Ernst's rapidly vanishing shyness, Hänschen repeated the movement and felt Ernst's fingers tighten on his hair. He ran his hands up and down Ernst's sides and Ernst whispered, “Hänsi, I'm…I'm close.” Hänschen hummed in acknowledgement and when he grabbed Ernst’s ass suddenly, he felt more than he saw Ernst’s back arch. He tried not to move as Ernst’s come filled his mouth and he pulled off when Ernst’s body went limp with a sigh. Hänschen barely had time to swallow before Ernst pulled him into a kiss. “You taste funny. Like me, I guess.” Ernst titled his head, thinking, before he shook it and pulled up his boxers, smiling. “Your turn,” he said, before he flipped over so his boyfriend was beneath him. 

“You don't have to Ernst.”

“But,” Ernst said, grinning, “I want to. I really want to.” His hands drifted immediately to Hänschen's boxers, which he slowly slipped down. He trailed his hands over Hänschen's torso and thighs, gently stroking him once before lowering his head down to slowly take Hänschen into his mouth. Slowly, Ernst slid down, dragging his lips gently over his boyfriend's length as he slowly moved up and down. He trailed his hands up to Hänschen's pecs, gently massaging the muscles before tracing a finger over each of his nipples. “You're so beautiful,” Ernst whispered, breath ghosting over Hänschen's erection. Hänschen shivered from the feeling and the praise. “The most beautiful boy I've ever seen.” Ernst’s words sent an electric shock through Hänschen's entire body. Ernst looked at Hänschen, his shy smile completely at odds with his totally blown pupils. He leaned forward again, still sucking tantalizingly slowly. Hänschen began to say something before Ernst sped up. Hänschen gasped and tried to hold on. 

“Ernst,” Hänschen whispered, “I'm close.”

Ernst hummed slightly and swallowed as Hänschen came. He slid back up to rest next to his boyfriend and smiled at him. “As fun as this is,” he almost whispered, “we should probably get ready to go home.”

Hänschen kissed Ernst and said with a smile, “You taste like me.” Ernst giggled and Hänschen smiled even wider, “And you're right. We should pack, have breakfast, and, unfortunately, head home.”

Ernst stood up. He reached for his shirt but stopped at the noise Hänschen made. “You don't want me to put a shirt on?” Hänschen shook his head, a little abashed, and Ernst smiled. “I won't if you don't, but you have to actually pack.”

Hänschen sighed sarcastically and stood up. “Whatever you say darling. After all, I did just have a pretty spectacular weekend with my pretty spectacular boyfriend.” He kissed Ernst gently and started to pack. 

 

Thea woke up at 6:00, an hour earlier than she usually woke up for school. Usually, she and Hänschen would roll out of bed at 7:00 to their father shouting that there was no way they would be ready in a half hour and if they were late they wouldn’t go anywhere in life. Every morning both of them would be ready at 7:30. Neither of them had ever been late and contrary to popular belief, they rarely skipped. Hänschen had skipped mostly in eighth grade and Thea had done it for a while in ninth grade but, despite as badass as the Rilows seemed, they liked school. Even on the worst days it was better than home.

Thea and Martha had fallen asleep on the couch, leaning on each other and talking until two in the morning. Thea smiled at her sleeping girlfriend and marveled at how close they’d gotten in a year. Thea had never been as close to anyone as she was to Martha. Thea knew it was probably because Martha was her first girlfriend, but she couldn’t imagine a more perfect person to be with. She heard plenty of girls complaining about not being their partner’s first, but Thea didn’t care. Small things like that didn’t matter. Four random guys didn’t matter to Martha as much as Thea did and Thea knew it. She brushed Martha’s hair out of her face and whispered, “Good morning beautiful.”

To Thea’s slight surprise, Martha sat up and yawned, stretching her back. She blinked at Thea and smiled. “Good morning darling,” she said with a kiss to Thea’s nose.

“It’s mad early, but I need to get home before my dad.”

Martha searched the ground for her phone and checked the news. “Roads are clear, so we could walk somewhere for breakfast before you have to go home.”

Thea was standing and stretching her back, but she smirked at Martha nonetheless. “For someone who didn’t want me to come over, you don’t seem to want me to leave.”

Martha stood up and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble because I care about you doofus. But I also want you to eat, because I care about you and I know you won’t if you go home.” She kissed Thea quickly and went up the stairs, Thea following closely behind. They climbed the two flights from the basement to Martha’s room as quietly as possible so they didn’t wake up Martha’s mother. When they reached Martha’s room, Thea turned her back so Martha could change. When Martha threw a shirt at her gently, Thea turned around to face her, confused and holding the shirt in her hands. “Well, put it on silly.”

“Martha, it’s fine I don’t need––”

“You wore that shirt yesterday and slept in it,” Martha said, “ _ And _ it still smells like weed. So change.” Thea was chewing on her tongue, clearly still on the fence. “What?”

Scratching her neck, Thea said, “Hänschen’s going to ask if I slept with you if I wear your shirt, and I don’t really want to talk about sex with my brother.”

Martha rolled her eyes. “Then just change when you get home or ignore him. Just please, put the shirt on.” Martha’s eyes got wide and she stuck out her bottom lip.

“Unfair,” Thea said, turning around and pulling at her shirt. “You know pouting in unfair.” Thea pulled Martha’s shirt on and pulled her hair out of the collar. Martha’s purple shirt had three buttons down the front and short sleeves. It sat loosely on Thea’s shoulders and definitely did not match her leather jacket. Martha smiled.

“You look cute in that shirt. Keep it.”

Thea made a face. “Thanks, but I’ll be giving this back. It doesn’t really fit my look and I don’t like the way it sits on me. It looks cute on you.”

“Okay. It’s a good color for you though. And it’s loose in some places. Makes you look… I don’t know… mysterious.”

Thea raised an eyebrow and smirked, taking a step closer. In rare moments, Thea could turn on the same flirtatious and hyper-confident mode her brother could, making her seem all the more gorgeous and enigmatic. “You don’t like my tight clothes?”

Sometimes it was hard for Thea to see if Martha was blushing because of her girlfriend’s darker complexion, but it was clear even as she smirked back that Martha was flustered. “Of course I do. I like your tight clothes. A lot.” She slipped a hand onto Thea’s waist and pulled her in for a kiss. When she pushed back she said, “Breakfast time!”

The two girls bundled up and pushed as best they could through the snow to reach the diner about halfway between their two houses. When they reached the warmth of the empty diner, they unbundled quickly and sat down in a booth.

“What’re you getting?” Martha asked over her menu.

Thea shrugged. “Probably an omelette or a parfait.” She caught sight of Martha’s glare and sighed. “What?”

Martha rolled her eyes and Thea thought her attitude and sarcasm might be rubbing off on Martha. “Don’t you ever treat yourself to something you really want?”

Thea cocked her head and smiled. “Yes. Despite all my dad’s threats I’m still here having a good time with my beautiful, amazing, sweet girlfriend.”

Smiling, Martha leaned over the table and kissed Thea’s forehead. “Fine. Get your low calorie diner breakfast. I’m getting waffles.”

The waitress took their orders and the girls sat in their booth, knees brushing under the table.

“Martha?”

“Yeah?” Thea opened her mouth and didn’t respond. She shook her head and looked at the table. “Thea, what?”

“Hänschen figured out we’re dating.”

“That’s okay. The only person we can’t let figure out is your dad. Other than that, we’re good.” Thea looked a little confused. “What?”

Thea’s hazel eyes locked with Martha’s brown ones. “I love you.”

Martha grinned and said, “I love you too Thea.”

Their food came and both girls started eating. They were slowed by the fact that they only had one hand to eat with, since their other hands were tangled in each other’s. As sarcastic and closed-off as they could both be, neither could stop smiling.

 

Ilse’s arm was asleep, but Ilse wasn’t. She was cuddled around Wendla, whose head, hidden behind a tangled mess of brown curls, was resting on Ilse’s upper arm. It was 8:00, and the drive home from the hotel was about an hour and a half. Before Ilse had fallen asleep she had promised her mother that she and Wendla would be home before 2:00. At the latest, they could leave at 12:30. Ilse smiled at her girlfriend and planned on letting her sleep until she had to get up, but then Wendla moved.

“Ugh… what time is it?” Wendla asked into Ilse’s arm.

“Early. Go back to sleep,” Ilse said, but Wendla turned over to face her, smiling wide. 

“This was a great weekend. Even if we didn't get to see the concert. I had so much fun spending time with just you.”

“I always love spending time with you,” Ilse said before she kissed Wendla’s nose. 

“Plus, with my mom always around and midterms approaching this may be the only time we can do anything sexy for a while,” Wendla added. 

Ilse pretended to groan. “So I'll just have to spend quality time with my girlfriend? Gross!”

“Oh shut up.” Wendla curled up again so Ilse was spooning her. “How do you think everyone else's weekends are going?”

“Well Hänschen has probably thoroughly de-virginized Ernst,” Ilse laughed. 

“You really think so? Ernst is so… Ernst.”

“Ernst has been in love with Hänschen forever and Hänschen is Hänschen so yeah, probably. Thea most likely didn't get caught sneaking out to Martha’s house—”

“When are those two gonna get it together and start dating?” Wendla laughed. “Honestly, they're worse than Hänschen and Ernst were.”

“Thea will admit to having feelings the same day Hänschen stops caring about his appearance.”

Wendla laughed again. “That's true. So who's left… Melchior and Moritz definitely had sex, especially if the snow trapped them together. Anna was at her dad’s, Otto and Georg were grounded, and we were here.”

Ilse stretched. “So it's between us and Hänschen and Ernst for who had the best weekend?” Wendla nodded and turned over to kiss Ilse. “You want breakfast?”

“Can we order room service?” Wendla whined, “I really don't want to leave your cuddles until I have to.”

“Fine,” Ilse huffed in fake exasperation, turning over to pick up the room service menu. 

 

It was a testament to how much Melchior loved Moritz (and how late they had stayed up watching movies and throwing popcorn and cuddling) that he slept until 10:00 the morning after their fight. He woke up, for the second day in a row, with Moritz cuddled against his chest. Melchior sighed happily, pressed a kiss to the back of Moritz’s head, and whispered, “Morning Mo.”

Moritz turned around so quickly Melchior almost smacked his head on the headboard in shock. “Thank goodness you’re finally awake. I’ve been lying here for like an hour and a half waiting for you to wake up so I could move.”

“Why didn’t you just get up?” Melchior asked, laughing and still blinking through his initial shock.

“One, you’re so much stronger than you look.” Moritz punctuated the sentence with a kiss to Melchior’s arm. “Two, it was comfy and I’m lazy. And three, other than last night this is the first time we’ve just cuddled in so long.” He nuzzled the top of his head against Melchior’s chest before leaning back to kiss him. 

Melchior stared at him, the love in his blue eyes mirroring the love in Moritz’s brown ones. “I love you Moritz Stiefel.”

“I love you too Melchior Gabor,” Moritz said, grinning wider than Melchior thought possible, “but I also really have to pee, so if you could let me go…”

Melchior released Moritz, who almost ran to the bathroom. Melchior sat up, leaning against the headboard and thinking about how  _ fucking lucky _ he had gotten when he sat down on the first day of kindergarten next to a boy who had stutteringly introduced himself as Moritz Stiefel. 

Moritz walked back in, shaking water off his hands and Melchior smiled at him. “I’m so lucky Moritz.”

“Lucky how?” Moritz asked, climbing back onto the bed and sitting down facing Melchior.

“Lucky because I have you. Lucky because I’ve done so many crappy things to you accidentally and you’ve given me third and fourth and fifth and twentieth chances. Lucky because at the end of the day, no matter what bad things happen, I can smile and say, ‘I am lucky enough to be in love with Moritz Stiefel.’”

“And,” Moritz said, grinning so wide his eyes were crinkling, “You can say, ‘And lucky enough that Moritz Stiefel is in love with me too.’” He leaned forward and kissed Melchior gently, tangling his fingers in his boyfriend’s hair when Melchior pushed his tongue into his mouth. “Mmm–Melchior.”

“Moritz,” Melchior said as Moritz’s fingers brushed against his bare abs.

“Melchior,” Moritz gasped, his head tipping back as Melchior’s lips and fingers traveled along the edges of his neck.

“Moritz,” Melchior whined when Moritz’s fingertips brushed gently over his nipples.

“Melchior! Moritz!” Mrs. Gabor called down the stairs and both boys froze, petrified of being walked in on. “Roads are clear! Time for Moritz to head home.”

Moritz sprang across the room. “Coming Mrs. Gabor!”

“I  _ wish _ you were coming,” Melchior whispered. Moritz’s initial look of shock faded into a loving smile at Melchior’s smirk. Moritz got dressed and Melchior drifted over to him. “Are you sure you can't stay?” he asked, eyes pleading and fingers pulling at the bottom Moritz's shirt. 

Moritz leaned into Melchior's touch but still said, “You know I can't. My dad will flip if I'm not home as soon as physically possible.” He kissed Melchior. “See you Monday.”

“You don't want me to walk you?”

“I'll be fine Melchior. I'm a big boy, I promise.” Moritz stopped on the stairs, watching Melchior’s pout. “Do you want me to text you that I'm safe?”

“Please?”

Moritz nodded, and this time when he left the basement he smiled a silent goodbye and a silent “I love you” as he left, to Melchior’s absolute delight. 

 

“You dragged me ten blocks out of the way with my luggage for hot chocolate?” Ernst’s face was red from the cold as he sipped from his whipped cream topped cup.

“Is it good?” Hänschen asked, holding his own cup close to his face.

“It’s definitely not ten blocks out of the way good.”

Hänschen shrugged. “To each his own I guess.”

“Do you think it’s worth a ten block walk?” 

Hänschen set his drink down and leaned back in his seat, looking around the cozy shop. “It’s one of the few places I have good memories of my whole family. Dad would buy us hot chocolate and me and Thea would make fun of Mom for falling down on the ice.” He sighed. “Even when we come into the city without them, me and Thea always come here and get hot chocolate. It’s one of the few places I ever remember actually feeling like people cared about me.” Hänschen blinked and looked away, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

Ernst looked at Hänschen, a boy who was more sensitive than anyone (other than Ernst) ever gave him credit for, and said, “Hänsi that’s–”

“Stupid, I know,” Hänschen said roughly, wiping his eyes quickly, still not looking at Ernst. “Sentimental bullshit.”

“I was going to say sweet. It’s important to you.” While he tried to look like he didn’t care, Hänschen’s hand was still resting on the table and Ernst covered it with his. “And I want to thank you for sharing an amazing weekend and an important place with me.”

Hänschen looked at Ernst, his face unreadable. “Fuck,” Hänschen said, “How do you do that? How do you always know the right thing to say? How are you so…  _ nice _ all the time?”

Ernst shrugged. “How are you so smart? How is it so easy for you to just be cool and popular?” Hänschen heard the question behind the words and was glad Ernst hadn’t said what he actually meant.  _ How is it so easy for you to get with people? _ Hänschen didn’t want to think about any of that anymore. All he wanted to think about was Ernst. “How are you so hot all the time?”

Hänschen leaned across the table and kissed Ernst and some college girls a few tables away said, “Awww!” Ernst turned bright red, but Hänschen flashed them a smile before checking his phone.

“Train boards in fifteen minutes, let’s go.” He led Ernst down to the train station, wrapping his arm around the brunette boy’s waist. When they boarded their train, both tucked their luggage up above them and snuggled into each other before Ernst’s phone chimed. A second later, so did Hänschen’s.

“Group chat, probably,” Ernst said into the side of Hänschen’s chest.

“Mmhmm,” Hänschen agreed, “But we should probably check it.”

Both boys pulled out their phones to see a message from Melchior. 

 

Melmel: Everyone except Anna Otto & Georg hung out with ppl this weekend, right?

Yoda: I was at my dad’s house so….

von Bismarck:  not my fault I was grounded!

Piano Boy: uh, yeah it was

best of all: Didn’t stop Thea lol

Memel: Anyway, if everyone spent the weekend together, what’s the group virgin count down to?

Piano Boy: dude wtf

‘ritz cracker: really Melchi?

Melmel: C’mon, we’re all friends

Baby Rilow: One

Yoda: Two

von Bismarck: three

Piano Boy: four

The Importance of Being: Five

Peter Pan: really Ernst?!

Peter Pan’s girlfriend: HA! Told you Ils

Melmel: Damn, I owe Mo five bucks

Händsi: Do you all really think I’d ruin Ernst so quickly?

Peter Pan: yes

Melmel: Yeah

Baby Rilow: Pretty much

The Importance of Being: guys! Hänschen was a total gentleman this weekend omg

Händsi: Plus I sucked you off 

Baby Rilow: Hänschen!

Händsi: Twice

The Importance of Being: Hänschen!

Händsi: Not the first time today you’re screaming my name ;)

Händsi: Ernst just punched me then stood up and walked away but left his luggage here so he’ll be back

Melmel: Mo just texted me, “We need better friends.”

Baby Rilow: Hänschen you gotta stop with this shit

Händsi: You get all up in arms when I keep secrets, and all angry when I share. 

The Importance of Being: They were up in arms because you were hooking up with sketchy people and we were all worried for your safety

Baby Rilow: Yeah, we wanted to make sure you weren't taking unnecessary risks

‘ritz cracker: and Melchi was worried you had an alcohol problem

Melmel: MORITZ

Händsi: And you're not worried about me unnecessarily endangering Ernst?

Peter Pan: I trust Ernst more than I trust Albert Munsch

Peter Pan’s girlfriend: Ditto

Piano Boy: same

best of all: yeah I'd trust Ernst to protect himself

Händsi: Wait Ernst are you going to come back to your seat?

Händsi: Ernst just came back to his seat

Händsi: He said  _ he _ gets to decide how much we get to share with the chat

The Importance of Being: and then I kissed him <3

Peter Pan’s girlfriend: Awwww

‘ritz cracker: speaking of couply stuff

‘ritz cracker: Melchi and I are going public about dating!!

Peter Pan’s girlfriend: what

Piano Boy: had you not been public before this

Melmel: Mo...

‘ritz cracker: what?

The Importance of Being: Everyone already knows Moritz

‘ritz cracker: not everyone

Händsi: dude Bobby Maler made jokes about it literally everyone knows

Peter Pan's girlfriend: you got caught making out in a staircase by three different janitors

von Bismarck: yeah, and me!

‘ritz cracker: whatever you guys are so mean

Melmel: I love you Moritz

‘ritz cracker: <3

Handsi: How come they get to be all PDA?

The Importance of Being: because their PDA isn't over sharing hansi

Händsi: Can I text you over shares?

The importance of being: sure 

Handsi: ;)

Yoda: y'all are gross. Why can't you be like Peter Pan and Wendy over here

Peter Pan's girlfriend: we're pretty disgustingly gross in person

Peter pan's girlfriend: Ilse agrees but she can't type because we're on the highway 

Yoda: couples are gross

 

Ilse and Wendla were about twenty minutes from Wendla’s house. The drive had been very musical, with Wendla shouting lyrics and Ilse drumming on the steering wheel. Wendla finally turned down the radio and smiled at Ilse. “I had a great weekend Ils, even if we didn’t get to go to the concert, and it’s because of you.”

Ilse smiled, still facing the road. “Glad to hear it. Are you sure it was because of me though? It might just have been the hotel.”

Wendla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because the hotel invited me to stay at her beach house over the summer, and the hotel took me to a fancy lunch, and the hotel complimented how I looked in everything I wore, and the hotel went down on me first thing in the morning.”

Ilse’s smile broadened into a grin. “I was wondering if you were going to mention that.”

“Mention it? It’s all I can think about! It took so much self control not to tell the whole group chat about it. I never want to do anything else again.” Wendla sighed, slumping back in her seat. “I wish my mom was more chill and you could sleep over at all.”

“Midterms are coming up though.”

“Then I’m going to need stress relief!”

Ilse laughed at Wendla’s frown. “You’re ridiculous. Friday morning you would barely talk about sex and now you’re begging for it.”

“I am  _ not _ begging.”

“You know, you can do it all by yourself Wendla. Just your hands and your imagination.”

“And you think that’ll do justice to the feeling of another person? Honestly Ils, you have no idea how incredibly you are, because I’ll never be able to replicate it.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Ilse said, reaching out for Wendla’s hand with one of her own. “You were pretty amazing too.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Wendla mumbled into her shoulder.

“Then it will only get better with time and soon you’ll be mind blowing at it.” Ilse finally took her eyes off the road to smile at Wendla. “It’s not as important as society pretends, but I’m glad we did it. I had fun.”

Wendla kissed her before pushing her face back to the road. “No car accidents because we were talking about sex.”

Ilse laughed, and they were silent for a minute, just appreciating the existence of the other. 

“When are we going to be able to do it again Ils?”

“If you come over to my place after school to ‘study’ before my mom gets home we probably could.”

“I don’t have a shift on Tuesday.”

“Sounds good.” Ilse merged into the exit lane. “We’re about three minutes from your house.”

Wendla sighed, and then sat up straight as if struck by lightning. “Ilse!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Ilse sounded as panicked as Wendla. 

“What if my mom can tell?”

Ilse started laughing and tried to stop, but found that she couldn’t.

“It’s not funny…” Wendla whined. “What if she knows we had sex?”

“Did she ‘know’ when Melchior felt you up? When I kissed you? When I felt you up?” Wendla shook her head. “It’s all just a construct. It’s not something you can see or ‘know.’ I promise.”

Wendla sighed. “Okay.” They turned onto her street and Ilse stopped outside Wendla’s house. “I love you.” Wendla kissed Ilse and hopped out of the car, running up the steps to her house and blowing Ilse a kiss before she disappeared inside. Ilse turned the radio up and smiled, driving away and looking forward to Tuesday afternoon. 

 

Melchior had finished his homework, called Moritz, gone over the homework with Moritz, eaten dinner, and watched an episode of Law and Order SVU, and it was still only 7:30. He sighed and collapsed on his bed, wondering if he could fall asleep from sheer boredom until his phone rang. He picked it up without looking at the name. “Hello?”

“Melchior?” Hänschen asked.

“Who else do you expect when you call my phone?”

“I don’t know, you sounded funny. Any way, how did your weekend go?”

“Fine. Moritz and I worked out all our weird shit.”

“Did you talk about me?”

“No. I wasn’t going to bring that up when there wasn’t a reason.”

“Yeah, okay,” Hänschen nodded. 

“How was your weekend?” Melchior asked, more to continue the conversation than because he cared.

“Pretty good. Just dropped Ernst off at home, so now I get to go home and deal with a pissy, grounded Thea and a quiet, angry Mom and an angry, tired Dad, which will really be the highlight of my weekend.” Hänschen sighed, and Melchior felt a compulsion to make him feel better.

“Really? I thought sucking Ernst off would’ve been the highlight.” Melchior smacked himself in the face before he heard Hänschen laughing.

“It’s between that and him sucking me off.”

Melchior laughed back before he said, “Seriously though, if it ever gets, you know, bad at home I’ve got a ton of space here and I’m sure my mom really wouldn’t mind.”

“Thanks Melchior, but it’s all good for now, especially with Ernst. I never realized how comforting being with another person could be, you know? Just knowing another person cares about you.”

Melchior chuckled a little and said, “Hänschen, you and Ernst have been dating for four days.”

“Oh shut up. It’s more than that, and you know it.”

“Yeah. I lost the bet first. I thought you would actually figure your shit out a lot earlier. Actually, I thought you’d hook up with him and then he’d talk to you about feelings and you’d be like, ‘Oh yeah, feelings. I have those too.’”

“Fuck off. I’m at my house. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

Hänschen hung up as he handed the cab driver money and stepped out of the car, looking at his house. He slammed the front door so everyone would know he was home before running up the stairs. He threw his suitcase into his room and knocked on Thea’s door.

“What?” Thea yelled.

“It’s me you little shit. Let me in.” The door opened and Hänschen stepped past a very sheepish looking Thea. 

“Sorry. I thought you were Dad.”

“Clearly. You haven’t yelled at me like that in a week.”

Thea shut the door and walked over to her bed. “So you and Ernst had a good weekend?”

Hänschen sat down in Thea’s desk chair. “Yeah. We went ice skating, I took him to that really nice bookstore, and we got hot chocolate.”

“You took him to Hot Cup? Wow, you really like him.”

“Shut up.” Hänschen threw a shirt off the desk at Thea before he looked at it. “Isn’t that Martha’s?”

“Ye–how did you know that?” Thea said. “Wait, never mind. I know.”

“You know?”

“Yeah. Martha and I talked about stuff. I know you and her had sex.” 

Hänschen’s voice dropped from its usual callousness to something with more delicacy. “Are you okay?”

“Well, I can’t exactly change it, can I? And it’s not like you guys are still having sex, and it’s not like she cheated on me with you. I know she likes me, and I like her. And you don’t like her, so it’s all fine. It’s not awkward or whatever. Besides, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I judged my girlfriend for hooking up with someone who everyone seems to find attractive? And what kind of sister would I be if I judged my brother for hooking up with a girl who is definitely really hot? So yeah, I don’t care.”

“You know it wasn’t a one time thing, right?”

Thea shrugged. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me who she fucked in the past, so long as the right is now mine exclusively.”

“Speaking of, I’m guessing that’s why you have her shirt?”

Thea rolled her eyes. “She forced it on me because my shirt smelled like weed and she didn’t want me to wear the same shirt for two days in a row. Oh, here’s your lighter.” She pulled the silver lighter out of her pocket and tossed it at Hänschen.

“She’s really something, huh?”

“Yeah. Now get out. I want to read.” 

Hänschen left and was closing the door to his own room when his phone rang. “Ernst?”

“Hänschen the book I picked is sooooo good! I just wanted to thank you for it again, and for a great weekend.”

“I know another way you can thank me,” Hänschen said, allowing suggestiveness to color his words, and he could almost see the other boy blushing on the other end. “It’s no problem babe. I had a great weekend too. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hung up and collapsed on his bed. It really had been a great weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nicknames just in case  
> Melmel–Melchior  
> Yoda–Anna (because she's small but wise)  
> von Bismarck–Otto  
> Piano Boy–Georg  
> best of all–Martha (because it kind of sounds like Bessell)  
> 'ritz cracker–Moritz  
> Baby Rilow–Thea  
> The Importance of Being–Ernst  
> Peter Pan–Ilse  
> Peter Pan's Girlfriend-Wendla (because of Wendy Darling)  
> Händsi–Hänschen
> 
> There will be another installment in this series soon! The next thing I plan on posting is a prequel, which I might post a teaser for on tumblr. The working title is Like a Virgin. Get hype

**Author's Note:**

> Contact me at hopingforaword.tumblr.com with prompts/ideas/comments. Thanks for reading!


End file.
